I’m an incorrect chimera. Those like me must be able to see spells—whether they’re dead or alive, to distinguish their design and form. I can’t… see anything. With open eyes. But with closed ones I can talk with magic, and sometimes even impose my will on it. Like all chimeras, once every 45 years I regain my youth. I work at a gambling establishment. One day I made a bet with a mysterious shapeshifting werewolf—and my life changed drastically…