Author's Note: I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. Well, this is my first fan fiction work, so please review. I always appreciate constructive criticism. :D

Prologue

"Milo, come on! You can do better than this!" The fifteen-year-old young man snarled as the much younger Milo directed his Scarlet Needle towards a target not too far away, but missed. He didn't know what was up with the younger boy these days. He used to be much better than this, but nowadays it seemed like he forgot how to aim.

"I'm… I'm trying, Saga!" the younger one shouted back, trying again. He directed a scarlet-colored blow towards another one, and this time had much better success. "What's the big deal?"

The fifteen-year-old snarled again. This was why he had disagreed against bringing a bunch of little kids to come and train to become Saints. And Gold Saints, of all ranks. "If this were a real battlefield, you would hit a real person! And you know how much pain your Scarlet Needle brings to someone!"

Milo knew this all too well. A few days before he had been practicing his technique with his best friend, and he had hit Camus by accident while aiming for the pillar behind the future Aquarius. And even worse, the blow was much too close to Camus's heart—Camus had to be sent to France to get medical help. It seemed as if Camus was clearly destined to become the next Aquarius, but Milo—would he be anything close to a Scorpio Saint? He had hit his best friend, nearly fatally. If a Scorpio couldn't even hit a pillar, how could he attack precise points on an enemy, without hitting his own comrades?

"Well, at least your attack speed is improving," the older boy with blue hair sighed. "You can work on this tomorrow with Aiolos, I guess. You can do what you want today."

Normally Milo would feel exhilarated hearing he had free time, but right now what he wanted to do was go crawl back into his bed and try to disappear. Anyways, usually when he had free time he would spend it with Camus. Now what would he do? Everything seemed to remind him what he had done. The training arena, the other trainees, and even his own bedroom, in which he usually shared a bunk with Camus. Finally he just decided to go explore somewhere he and Camus had never been before. What would that be, anyways?

The waterfall behind that little town near Sanctuary was the answer. With all the jagged rocks, crooked cliffs, possible sinkholes, and even underwater caves, it was not a restricted area to them but probably should have been. It was too dangerous. But Milo felt a little of his earlier energy well up. He would take care of himself. Probably.

He changed into lighter clothes and boots that wouldn't slip on wet surfaces easily. He was about to leave the grounds when he felt a large hand on his shoulder, and he flinched instinctively because it was too strong of a grip.

"Where are you going?" Aiolos asked gently.

Milo wanted to lie so badly. He feared the too-protective brother of Aiolia would probably stop him from going anywhere outside of Sanctuary. Aiolos, however, was still looking at him intently, waiting for an answer. Milo's answer blurted out without him wanting it to, but not before he stuttered for a good five seconds.

Aiolos' eyes narrowed. "Stenós Katarráktis?" he repeated with a perfect accent.

"Um…" Milo scrambled to read those blue eyes. What were they expressing? Disproval? Approval? "Yes..." He paused for another three seconds. "Is that all right with you?"

The older boy considered, then slowly nodded. "Be careful." He leaned towards Milo slightly, stroking his blue hair, which fell over his shoulders. "I trust you," he stated simply, and smiled. Milo wished so badly that everyone else still did.

Stenós Katarráktis was beautiful. Like its name suggested, it was narrow, but its name did not describe the elegance of it. Water spilled down like a curtain, and when it splashed down onto the rocks it seemed like a fountain. The rocks around it, slick around the edges or just outright wet, seemed more like gleaming gems in the sunlight. Golden sunlight curved around the edges perfectly, and at some angles the water and sunlight combined to make a stream of light colored like the rainbow. The water was clear and shining, and spreads of white foam spread out in rings, heading downstream. While walking along the side, Milo silently promised to himself he would bring Camus here to see this once he came back to Sanctuary. The bibliophile would likely make some kind of poem out of this.

Of course he had to remind himself all that had gone wrong right now. He grumbled under his breath and set his foot forward.

And slipped.

One instant both his feet were on the ground, the next only one, then none were on solid footing as he went flying off the edge not-so-elegantly, towards the yawning, foaming, swirling water, and the rocks sharpened by the current's strong power, like a monster's teeth. Waiting to devour him.

*Okay, okay, I know I use way too much similes. And this is bad; I should develop the plot better. Well, there's always room for improvement, right? Please review, thanks! I will continue to work on this:D. And other stories are coming up soon, I think.*