(C) Daily Kos This story was originally published by Daily Kos and is unaltered. . . . . . . . . . . Progress [1] ['Chloris Creator', 'Chitown Kev'] Date: 2026-07-12 Traditional arts meet a changing world….. Elseth’s cart was unexpectedly delayed on the last day of her journey when a sick ox had to be replaced. She barely made it to Kingsbridge before the city gates were closed for the night. Relieved at being spared the necessity of lodging in one of the tatty and dubious hostelries outside the city wall, she only had to hunt for a few minutes before finding a suitable room on the second floor of a small, friendly establishment a few minutes’ walk away from the Temple of Unity. It even had electric lights, though these were old-style carbon filament bulbs: anything else was too expensive for ordinary users, and lamps and candles still had a place nearly everywhere, even in a modern metropolis like Kingsbridge. Tired from her journey, Elseth didn’t feel like going out again, so she was relieved to find that the innkeeper’s wife could prepare a few simple dishes. She decided to rest for a few minutes before going down to eat, but as soon as she sank into an ancient armchair and closed her eyes, a sharp metallic cough from the floor below jerked her back to reality. It repeated several times, then fell silent. She sighed, slipped her shoes back on, and went downstairs to see what was happening. Two or three other guests had preceded her and were gathered in the kitchen around a bulky metal cabinet, presumably the source of the noise. Gears and levers could be seen through an open panel in the side, and the innkeeper was cautiously examining them. There was a faint smell of burnt insulation in the air. He checked the linen-wrapped power cord and then pushed a button; the machinery shuddered painfully, but fell silent again at once. “What’s the problem?” Elseth asked. She thought she could guess, but it didn’t pay to show off in front of strangers. The innkeeper shook his head ruefully and said in an embarrassed voice, “It’s the cooler. It’s one of these new ones and it’s been nothing but a nuisance, breaks if you look at it sideways. Shouldn’t have gone so hard for the latest improvements….” His voice trailed off as his wife glared at him. Elseth thought she could guess whose idea the purchase had been. “Can it be repaired?” He gave a helpless shrug. “I expect so, but not until the morning….” Elseth turned and addressed the innkeeper’s wife. “Can you bring me a bucket or a tub of water? I have some magic. I think I can make you enough ice to last until you get it working again.” She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you, m’lady.” And looked daggers at her husband. Elseth felt sorry for him, but first things first. He shook his head again. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” His wife, who was already at the kitchen pump filling a tin bucket with water, snapped back, “Aye, you seemed like a good idea at the time, too.” She turned to address Elseth. “Where do you want this, m’lady?” “Up on the table here, and nothing else on the table, please,” Elseth replied. “It won’t be frozen completely, so there will be a bit of a splash when you break it up. But there should be enough ice to see you through.” She paused. “If I froze it solid, you might need hours before you could unstick it from the table.” The woman nodded and placed the bucket, quickly stepping back. Elseth took a deep breath. At least the effort required would help her sleep tonight, she thought. She put one hand on each side of the bucket, not quite touching – she didn’t want to freeze herself to the bucket either – and began to whisper the spell, her eyes slowly closing as she concentrated. It didn’t take long. Tendrils of ice formed and spread over the surface of the water, a few wisps of freezing mist curled up, and there was a slight crackling sound. The small audience murmured in satisfaction; they’d all seen it before, but it never failed to impress, not quite as much as lightning or fire would, though. She dropped her hands, opened her eyes, and took a deep breath. Her fingers were stiff and cold. The outside of the bucket was covered in hoarfrost. “You probably don’t have to break the ice up. Just put the whole bucket inside the cooler and it’ll keep the temperature low for hours now.” She rubbed her hands together. The effect had been a bit stronger than she anticipated; the water was completely frozen, turned to clear ice. “Thank you.” The innkeeper’s wife managed a curtsy. “Let’s see to some food for you now.” She turned to her husband. “She didn’t freeze you too, did she? Go along, put it in the cooler. We should never have left the old ways, but you wouldn’t listen.” * * * * * After an excellent, and free, meal, Elseth climbed the stairs back to her room and went directly to bed. She thought about what had just happened. When she had been a girl, food storage had meant iceboxes, and iceboxes had meant mages to produce the ice, except in the winter when the weather was cold enough to do the job for them, for part of the year at least. But now there were machines, coolers, and Elseth knew that most of them were more reliable than the rickety and probably underpowered gadget that was all the owner of a small inn had been able to afford. Ice magic had been one of the most dependable ways for low-level mages to make a living, since many of the materials for traditional cuisine spoiled quickly unless kept cool. But buying mage-made ice or paying a mage every few days was troublesome and expensive. The machines were not cheap, the electricity they ran on was not free and not available except in fief capitals and a few other large towns, but they paid for themselves eventually, if you could keep them running, that is. Elseth wondered if magic itself would one day become obsolete. It wasn’t an easy skill to master. And every magical action had a downside: limited, inefficient, erratic, difficult, sometimes even dangerous. Perhaps one day machines would do it all quicker, more easily, and more reliably, for less expense. Not in her time, though, Elseth thought as she drifted off to sleep. Not her problem. Not yet, anyway. ——————- (A sketch that didn’t make it into the main body of The Leaking World.) 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