The Obsidian Lantern

I remembered the graven marks, hidden by moss and lichen on the walls of the hot cave; my lantern illuminated them as I looked at them closely. They were runes, keeping whatever was hidden trapped within the glowing obsidian lantern. I felt the arcane magic humming through my entire body as I walked closer. The lantern was hung from a chain bolted to the ceiling, and it rattled as it swayed in the non-existent breeze. The light coming from within was a deep red colour, not the happy, welcoming orange glow you would expect. I snuffed out my own lantern since I didn't need the extra light, nor the heat coming from it. A part of me wanted to run, but it was overshadowed by the overwhelming need to reach out and touch it. My hand was shaking as I lifted it toward the swaying obsidian lantern. An electric current ran through my hand when I made contact. It didn't hurt, but I knew it was pure energy. It was cold and smooth, which surprised me given how hot the cave felt. It was then that a tingling sensation started at the base of my spine and ran up it. The red, harsh light had become much softer and seemed to react to my touch. I let go and backed up; the light got harsher once more. What was I supposed to do now?