Although Octavian would never admit it, would never speak of it to another living soul, there was something in himself that was envious of Perseus Riddle.

Perhaps it was true that like calls to like, what else could explain this strange grudging respect that Octavian had for the other boy? It's as if he recognises something in the son of Poseidon that he sees in the deep recesses of himself (though again, he would never admit this aloud). It was a familiar ambition, a familiar need for power and control. At the heart of it, they were both so inexplicably Roman that perhaps in another life they could have been allies or even respectful foes who worked together whenever it was necessary. However, this was not that life. Octavian loathed to even consider the sea green eyed boy to be anything but the graecus he was.

The son of Poseidon had the nerve to waltz into his camp, his home, and take the highest seat of power in less than a month of his arrival. Octavian saw how the other boy had so easily turned the others to his side, saw how quick they were all to follow him. How did he make others trust him so easily? How did he make others love him so easily?

For all his life Octavian strove to be at the top. He was a legacy, a descendant of the god Apollo whose family line was filled with greatness. The blonde knew what others thought of him, knew that he wasn't the most skilled at combat or the most athletically impressive but that didn't matter. He made himself indispensable by becoming augur, a position impossible to posses unless one had his particular set of skills. Eventually he even became centurion of the First Cohort, the most prestigious cohort in camp, and in the process gave himself a status only comparable to the praetor themselves. Octavian's skills with a blade was nothing to scoff at but his true weapon was his words and his abilities to speak to an audience. All was going accordingly.

Then he came along.

Riddle was nothing at all like Jason Grace, the son of Jupiter who had basically been on track to become praetor since he first came to camp all those years ago. The blonde was valiant, strong, and upstanding: the perfect Roman soldier. Grace led his fellow campers with a confidence and easy going nature that countered the more intense personality of his co-praetor. He was honest and righteous, a beacon that guided the camp towards lawfulness and honour.

Perseus did not seem to care much for those ideals. No, he was less... weary of breaking rules and crossing boundaries. His tongue was as sharp as his blade and he used his smile like a shield that could block the most powerful of blows. A warrior and a scholar both, he had a cunning that surprises you with its ruthlessness and an ambition that leads you to believe that he wouldn't stop at praetor.

Aut vincere aut mori.

He commanded your attention whether or not you were happy about it and it didn't matter if you agreed with his ways, if he tells you to do something you do it. Octavian saw how quick people were to act on his directions and orders during that first war game where the other led his band of misfits to victory against the first cohort, his cohort. He saw it again during the battle that led to the crowning of Riddle as praetor.

And the bastard had only been here for less then a month.

It wouldn't be wrong to say that Octavian hated the sea green eyed boy. He stood against everything that the Auger has fought for all his life and blocked the path that the legacy have been paving for himself for oh so long. Though the others may be too stupid to realize or too blind in their awe of his skills with a sword, Octavian knew deep in his gut that this was not a person to easily trust. This was a person to be wary of, someone to carefully maneuver around rather than accept so easily within their ranks.

His aura just screamed something powerful and dark, something beyond perhaps what they were capable of understanding and if Octavian noticed it then Reyna also certainly did. Maybe that was why despite the respect the daughter of Bellona clearly had for the Neptune spawn there was a certain cautiousness that permeated her being whenever the two spoke. That curious tattoo on his forearm was only further proof that his loyalties were to be questioned, that this was not a person who would ever be a true Roman.

But as much as Octavian hated him, the auger also feared him.

There was just something dark in Riddle's expression when he looks at the Auger, a sort of keen understanding that unsettles the blonde. It was the gaze of a predator lazily watching its prey or a scavenger bird circling in the air for easy food.

That fear only heightened during the raid on Camp Half-Blood.

Anybody who saw Perseus that day flinched at the clear murderous intent behind those piercing green eyes. If Octavian had survived until the end of the battle, if he hadn't died in that "freak" accident with the catapult, everybody knew the son of Poseidon wouldn't have hesitated to eliminate the threat to the Camp that took him in as one of their own...

At the end of the day, power is always attracted to power, no? And the graecus was one of the most powerful demigods alive today.