Prolog: The Nightmare
Faith Morgan slept restlessly in the Master bedroom of her manor. Her long, straight brown hair grew messy and tangled as she squirmed in her sleep, and it's obvious by the look on her face that she's having a nightmare.
Faith stares on helplessly as her twin sister, Taralynn Willow Morgan, flinches in pain inflicted by the cruciatus curse. The Dark Lord raises his wand, lifting the curse.
"Where is she?" he demands ruthlessly.
"I. Am. Faith!" she insists, desperate to protect her sister.
Tara had always been the stronger one…the one who stood out and spoke her mind…the big sister. Faith was the silent type, but usually wore her heart on her sleeve. It was more easily broken that way, but she was so strong-willed that every time someone would knock her down, she'd get back up again and dust herself off without even flinching. But even she barely survived the Dark Lord's advances unscathed. It had been she, not Tara, who'd been betrayed by a so called 'friend' and sold throughout the Dark Lord's ranks as a prostitute…and then given to the Dark Lord himself as a mistress. She'd been the one forced to survive the Dark Lord's mind games. She'd escaped alive with her sanity intact, but traumatized. And now they think they can just waltz in and take her back? Tara, furious, had taken advantage of being Faith's identical twin and the fools kidnapped her instead.
"No." The Dark Lord returns knowingly, "You are not her, but you will pay for your insolence. But first, you'll watch us have fun with your dear sister."
"Over my dead body!" she sneers.
He laughs menacingly. "You should take caution before making those kinds of wishes!" Without a moment's hesitation he casts the cruciatus curse again. This time Tara screams. So does Faith…but she gets to wake up.