Most people had an almost morbid fascination with watching other's misfortune. The multi-floor shop hadn't seemed that crowded. But as the sirens blared, and the lights flashed, people came from every corner flocked to see what was going on.

The whisperings of those gathering mostly revolved around the shock, disbelief that a Sect member was trapped. The consensus seemed to be that there must be some kind of mistake, that the array had activated in error. The shop's owner finally made his appearance, people clearing a path for him, to observe the tableau of frozen miscreants poised to exit the shop but trapped like bugs in amber instead.

"Shean," the owner directed, "contact the Sect and inform them we have one of their members trapped in the anti-theft stasis bubble. Inform them we will withhold action so that they can investigate this event and determine exactly how a Sect Novice came to be involved with the theft."

Shean removed a scribe table from his storage device. Intricately designed, an interlocking phoenix motif etched into the wood, the table was secured with silk ribbons that allowed the table to be hung around the neck. A brace unfolded beneath the table that was placed against the body for additional stability. Once positioned correctly, Shean opened the top and removed a single sheet of paper and an inkwell. The lid of the scribe table made for a stable writing platform, and a few deft brushstrokes of calligraphy and the message was complete.

A few words were written with a deftness that suggested this employee was more scribe than salesman encapsulated the complete message and were finished in a matter of seconds. Once he was completed writing the missive, he sprinkled sand to help dry wet ink before he began folding the paper. The folded paper began taking shape, reminiscent of origami, a paper crane was quickly generated. Once finished, Shean flicked the construct towards the exit, releasing the crafted message.

I watched in wonder as the simple creation sparked with a semblance of life. Instead of falling to the floor, the crane's wings began to flutter as it took flight and darted out the door heading towards the Sect.

"How did he do that?" I asked Niake.

"The ink is a special formula that includes ground-up monster cores," she explained. "The paper has a small array stamped into it that when partnered with the ink allows the person to fold a constructed golem that will complete one task. The difficult part is creating the paper. Anyone can learn the secrets of paper folding, but it takes a high tiered Journeyman array master to establish a pattern in the paper that can locate destinations.

"The shop must have the beacon contact of the Sect. Since they do so much business with cultivators, they may have signed a contract with an Elder that can respond to messages or at least get in contact with someone in authority that can. Selling so much of the Sect's loot from missions has to come with some benefits," Niake theorized.

"It's a neat trick," I said. "Can anyone make use of it, or does it take a special skill?" There had been no hint of something like this where I lived. Messages and letters could be sent, but children often worked as runners, earning a few coins to deliver those messages.

"As long as you can afford the ink and paper you can master the technique," she informed me, "but they can get pretty expensive. Especially when sending messages long distances. The ingredients for this can be as much as a spirit stone because an array has to be included that can determine the current position and home in on the location that the sender has defined."

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That explained why I'd never seen a message missive before. The people I grew up with could afford the cost of a runner, or they would go themselves if they could not bear the expense. No one with my economic resources would waste funds on something that could be easily accomplished with a bit of effort and time, certainly not funds that might exceed the worth of a spirit stone.

The sound of howling wind and thunderous rain was the only warning anyone received that the Sect was responding and sending someone. It was not surprising they would send a personal representative in response to the missive the shop had sent, the Sect's reputation may be damaged because of the actions of an Outer Member.

Everyone's attention was drawn from the proceedings occurring near the trapped men to the sudden activation of the building's defensive array. A field of energy that mitigated the damage and pressure with the arrival of that howling wind, a pressure that threatened to destroy everything in its path.

Cultivator's often battled each other, even if those battles were not to the death, they could be destructive and deadly for those in the area. Sects had joined together to create an interlocking array system that towns and hamlets could employ that would allow them to withstand the energies Cultivators released. Defensive arrays that were activated automatically and reflected the energies of passing Cultivators or those locked in battle.

The Sect member that had responded had triggered the city's defensive array, and the force field had emerged in response. Buildings that may have been leveled or had roofs destroyed and the glass shattered by the strong winds were protected as the array reflected and grounded that excess energy.

Most of those gathered in the store attempted to force their way further into the crowd, away from the entrance, not wanting to call attention to themselves if the Sect's response to events turned deadly. The shop's owner, on the other hand, remained decidedly unflappable. He seemed certain that there would be no repercussion to him or his business. His indifference calmed the crowd somewhat, but the anticipation and unease remained.

"Your message was intriguing Merchant Belea," an obvious Sect Elder said as he entered the premises. He spent a moment or two circling the three trapped men before he finally came to a stop before the novice. "The anti-theft protective field? Elder Wol's work?"

The Shop's owner bowed deeply before responding, "I apologize for the need. I'm sure this minor development could have been handled without disturbing the Honorable Elder Shadow. The Honorable Elder is of course correct, Elder Wol did grace this shop with his skills.

"I have allowed the array to stay active, leaving all evidence untouched. The Cyntyne Shop cedes all responsibility for investigation, judgment, and punishment to the Sect. We will defer to the Honorable Elder's judgment and agree to pay any penalties that may arise from this investigation."

I thought Shadow was an interesting name for a Sect Elder. I wondered if it had any meaning, hidden or overt. I thought it unlikely. If there was something that he was hoping to conceal or shade from sight, assuming a moniker that broadcast that knowledge made little sense.

Merchant Belea motioned to one of his employees after Elder Shadow had completed his inspection. A flurry of activity took place as the employee disengaged the array. The doors were closed and sealed, the blinking lights returned to normal, the sirens silenced, and the amber energy field that had trapped the three men was deactivated.

As if they were marionettes whose strings had been cut, all three collapsed to their knees, they had been fighting the energy field, employing will and muscle against the power of Qi, as they were released, they fell.

Great gasps of breath could be heard as well as the sounds of gagging and retching as each of them regained control of their bodies. The field that trapped them was a complete stasis field. All bodily functions were frozen in limbo. The abrupt return to autonomous functionality, while not painful, was disorienting and confusing.

Most of the crowd split their attention and focus on all three men. I didn't. I knew because I was on the third floor when the novice's performance took place, that it was his actions that had allowed his henchmen to pilfer the items stolen. I knew that he was part of the theft. But he had none of the items on him. There had been no opportunity to exchange those items that had been stolen.

It was clear when the effects of stasis were abated, and he understood what had happened. His eyes glanced thoughtfully at his accomplices before a glint of determination and a decision was made. His eyes signaling his intent, the worry lines that creased his brows cleared, and his posture became ramrod straight and perfect, as he stood to face the Elder.

Bowing deeply, he paid respect to Elder Shadow. Once he'd completed the bow, he interlocked his fingers and arms behind his back and stroke a pose of contemplation; I thought that a mistake. He should have considered the circumstances and the authority of the Elder and portrayed a humble servant instead of a young master.

Elder Shadow appeared to agree with my assessment. His features that had been schooled, stoic and indifferent, flashed with anger and contempt at the young man's action. It would seem the Sect had no intention of coddling the young dilettante, a minor Sect member that thought he deserved or was beyond retribution by a common merchant.