Three dates. Inside the wrist of almost every single person, there were three dates. They predict a day and a month, but not a year. The only people exempt from these dates were the seers. They were the ones gifted with the ability to tattoo these onto a person, but they themselves had no use for such information.

They were immortal, and would never know the date of their death.

They were created through pain and hard toil, so never had a birthday.

They were maidens, so they would never have a soulmate.

It was an ancient (slightly painful) method, where minuscule knives were used to cut into the skin, leaving a trail of ink behind. Each tattoo was designed in such a way that only the possessor could read them; a handwriting unique to the way their brain worked. Percy Jackson loved his tattoos. They were the only thing he could read with any ease. Most got their tattoos when they reached the age of sixteen, not wishing to spend two of the three days every year watching out for their lives and soulmates. For Percy, he had gotten them as a child, as a form of comfort; it meant he had three-hundred-and-sixty-three days where he was certain he would survive.

"Rach, when do you get off work?" Percy strolled in to the parlor, a coffee in each hand.

"You know I promised Michelle that I'd cover her shift." Rachel looked up at him from the reception and rolled her eyes. She was a confident, red headed girl, with pretty green eyes, and a penchant for trouble. She was also a seer.

"Yeah, but it's dead in here!" Percy moaned. "Who's gonna get a tattoo done on a Tuesday evening?" He passed her a coffee and rested his arms on the desk, towering over her. She looked up, and around, smirking.

"Okay, fine. But let me see if Michelle is done with her hangover yet." Rachel laughed, picking up the phone. Her friend smiled. He knew he could usually convince Rachel to skip out - she wasn't really dedicated to her calling. But she was one of the most talented tattoo artists around, so no one was likely to fire her. Percy (being the ultimate best friend) knew the truth about the seers.

Society saw them as these frightening and mystic people. A lot of folks were scared of them, but Percy knew what really went on behind the scenes. True, there was a specific requirement to be a seer, but it wasn't as magical as everyone assumed. Seers were the children born between two people who weren't soulmates, but they were the product of true love. Children like this were rare, and since those children weren't brought about by a soulmate, they couldn't find one of their own. Percy had known Rachel Elizabeth Dare since they were small children - their fathers were rivals in business. It had come as a shock to everybody when Rachel had gone to get her tattoos done with Percy, and been told she was not her mother's daughter, but a mistake brought about by a hushed up affair. There had been tears and anger and accusations, but when Rachel had been asked to leave home to travel to the Cloisters (where seers were taught how to see), she had gone willingly, never returning to her parents. Percy was the only remnant of her past.

"C'mon!" Rachel cried, tugging him down the street. They were headed for their favorite bar, and Rachel was practically skipping with excitement. It wasn't that often that she had an excuse to stay out of the Cloisters, despite being twenty-two. Right now though, she had her best friend, bad karaoke, and a night of beer to look forward to.