Dorothy Crane had always felt different, but she never imagined just how different she truly was. She'd grown up in the shadow of her fathers, Jonathan Crane and Jervis Tetch, in an old Victorian house nestled on the outskirts of Gotham. The house, with its creaking floorboards and mysterious attics, had always felt alive, almost as if it were watching her.
One crisp autumn afternoon, Dorothy sat by the window, staring out at the twisted, leafless trees as the wind howled through them. Her black cat, Hex, curled on her lap, purring softly. Lately, strange things had been happening around her. Objects moved when she felt angry or upset, candles flickered to life without a match, and she seemed to understand Hex's meows better than she understood some people.
It all came to a head one night when she had a nightmare about a shadowy figure chasing her through a labyrinth of thorns. She woke up with a gasp, her heart pounding, and the room around her seemed to pulse with energy. The wind outside slammed the window open, and she felt a surge of power rushing through her veins.
Startled, Dorothy glanced at the small collection of books her father Jervis had gifted her over the years. One caught her eye—a thick, leather-bound tome with strange runes on the cover. She hadn't remembered seeing it before, but something drew her to it. She hesitated before opening it, feeling a shiver down her spine as she touched its worn pages.
The book seemed to come alive in her hands, flipping to a page filled with symbols and incantations. As she read, the words flowed from her lips, and the air around her crackled. A faint light formed at her fingertips, illuminating her face with an eerie glow. Dorothy's eyes widened in wonder and fear. She was casting a spell.
Suddenly, the door to her room creaked open, and Jonathan and Jervis appeared in the doorway. They watched her with expressions that were a mixture of pride and apprehension. Jervis approached first, his eyes twinkling beneath his top hat.
"It seems the gift has found you, Dorothy," he said, his voice soft. "You have a power within you, one that cannot be ignored."
Jonathan stepped forward, a more serious expression on his face. "Magic runs deep in our bloodline, Dorothy. Your mother's side, the Tetches, have always had a connection to the arcane."
Dorothy's heart raced. "You knew?"
Jervis nodded. "We were waiting for the right time to tell you. It's a delicate gift—one that must be nurtured and controlled."
Jonathan added, "But it's also a responsibility. With magic comes danger, and you must learn to protect yourself."
Dorothy felt a mixture of excitement and fear. She had always sensed there was more to her than she understood, but hearing it confirmed was overwhelming. "What do I do now?"
Jervis smiled, his eyes kind but full of secrets. "We'll teach you. But you must be careful, Dorothy. Magic can be a light in the darkness, but it can also become a shadow if wielded carelessly."
As the days went by, Dorothy immersed herself in her studies. Her fathers guided her through the basics of spellcasting, potion-making, and scrying. She discovered she had a natural talent for communicating with animals and manipulating the elements. Hex often served as her companion during her lessons, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly intelligence.
Yet, even as she learned and grew stronger, Dorothy could feel the shadows lurking at the edges of her power. There was an ancient, hungry darkness tied to her magic, one that whispered to her in her dreams. But with her fathers' guidance and her growing confidence, Dorothy knew she was ready to face whatever lay ahead. She was a witch, and her journey had only just begun.