It is very cold inside this stone. But nothing can compare to the coldness of your heart.
Everything you believed in, everything you tried so hard for, is gone. A shadow, a mockery. You rage within the stone, and your anger is your energy. You no longer care about right and wrong, good and bad. You care about only one thing: vengeance. It runs deeper in your veins than blood. You gather that rage to you, nurture it, for it is the only way you can free yourself. He was wrong, so very wrong. The women were good and gentle. They did not deserve the fate he wanted for them. You were a fool to think your love for him mattered. Love means nothing for men such as him now: they let themselves grow fearful and bitter and no longer want to see the goodness in love and life. You made a mistake, once. Just as he did. He will not be given the chance to make another such mistake. Soon you will have your revenge.
You think of Lorcan, and your heart grieves. Surely his intentions were good. But the dark monk with the dagger tricked you. Didn't he? And what about Lorcan's spirit? Could it still exist? When you free yourself, could you try to find him?
It will take time to harness your power. But you have nothing but time trapped within this obsidian hell.
Sometimes you dream, and your dreams are filled with old memories. You wake up and your face is wet. But there is no going back to that. You must be strong. Anger takes away the pain. So you grow angrier and angrier inside the obsidian, until finally you have created so much raw energy it shatters into a million shards. FREE!
You emerge from the stone in triumph. You look around you. The monk! Where is he! It is time he paid for what he did!
He is not in this room. It is empty. He had placed the stone on an altar and now the altar is shattered as well. You don't know what he has done while you were imprisoned. But you will soon find out. This room is dark, with only a few candles lit. There is a round wooden table in a corner, and a chair beside it. On this table is a book. It has a black leather cover. You open it to the first page. The handwriting is not familiar to you, but somehow you know it belongs to the dark monk. It seems to be a diary. You are curious. Has he felt remorse at all? Did he regret what he did? Did he want to free you but was unable? NO! You must not think such foolishness. You have your purpose. He will never know you were coming. It will be over in a second for him. Yet you hold the book, and think of his sadness, his own love lost, and you hesitate. You start to feel mercy, pity. You cannot! You will be just as weak as he is if you allow this. You must leave at once and fulfill your vow! But wait... perhaps the book will reveal something about Lorcan? Or is it just the ramblings of a weak traitorous fool?