Obsidian Is Alive

I live in a realm of darkness and curiosity, where the very ground conceals secrets and riddles, the answers to which are well beyond my reach. The cavern beneath Mount Etna is a maze of contorted rock and hidden riches, where daylight never shines, and the shadows of torches and the ghostly phosphorescence of cinnabar are the only illumination sources. I am fascinated by the cavern's beauty: the stalagmites, vast columns of rock that ascend from the ground like titans and are studded with gleaming adornments and stones, capturing sunlight and creating a treasure-trove of wealth and fascination. One stalagmite, however, stands out: a gigantic monolith of completely unreflective obsidian that glows blackly, swallowing light and color. I am drawn to it by a magnetic-like force; though Clement tells me it will boil to the touch, I am not frightened. Indeed, when I put my palm upon it, I am startled by the device's warmth; it is red-hot, pulsating with unseen living energy. Clement explains it is a conductor, a turning device that draws and converts all force it contacts.

Shocked, I say, "Turns it about? It charges? Charges toward what?" Clement responds mysteriously, "It balances. It strengthens.". I am not satisfied and instead consumed with trepidation and inquiry. Orazio, I am grateful, arrives to shatter the silence and leads me onward, farther into the cavern through the back of the monolith. A flight of old, blackened steps winds me through the solid rock, and I have a sense of impending doom as if I were walking into the universe itself. But I continued via that horrible opening; I had to know. The temperature increases, and the faint becomes denser; however, I advance, propelled by astonishment and the insatiable interest in discovery.