Miracles | 𝔐𝔞𝔤𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 ℭ𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔶

part four

The cart rumbled along the bumpy roads, the creaking of its wooden wheels blending with the sound of the wind sweeping across the open fields. Mila sat against the side of the cart, her knees drawn up as she rested her sketchbook on them, pencil in hand. Leo sat across from her, staring absentmindedly at the passing landscape, lost in thought. But Mila was focused, her eyes flicking between the notebook and the golden wheat fields that stretched endlessly on either side of the road.

She drew the tall, swaying stalks of wheat, their tips brushing gently against the pale blue sky. Each line she sketched felt like a connection to the world around her, a way of grounding herself in the moment as they journeyed toward Kiev. The fields were so familiar yet seemed different now—full of promise rather than confinement. For once, she felt free.

The sky above was soft, its blue tinting her page as she shaded in the light clouds hanging lazily in the air. She loved the Ukrainian countryside, despite the boredom and limitations it had brought her. Its beauty was undeniable, and she wanted to capture every detail, every memory, in her drawings.

Leo glanced over at her, breaking his silence. "What are you drawing now?" he asked, his voice low and tired.

Mila didn't look up from her page. "The fields. The sky. Everything we're leaving behind."

He nodded, but said nothing more, his eyes drifting back to the horizon.

Mila paused for a moment, running her fingers over the paper, smudging the pencil lines to give the wheat a softer, more delicate look. The drawing wasn't just a landscape—it was a memory. A record of this journey, of the freedom she had always craved but never thought she'd have.

She had brought the sketchbook with her not just to practice her art, but to keep a diary of sorts. A way to remember each moment, each place they passed. She wanted to immortalize it all, from the mundane to the extraordinary, through her sketches. And this—this quiet moment on the road, with the vast Ukrainian wheat fields dancing in the wind—felt like the perfect beginning.

Mila glanced up, her eyes scanning the distant horizon. The sun was starting to dip lower, casting long shadows across the road. She knew they still had hours to go before they reached Kiev, and the journey ahead would only grow more difficult. But for now, she was content. The uncertainty of the future didn't scare her—not anymore.

The sketch in front of her slowly took form, a reflection of the place they were leaving behind. She couldn't help but wonder what new landscapes she would capture as they traveled deeper into unfamiliar lands.

As she sketched, she whispered softly to herself, "This is only the beginning."

She glanced at Leo, who seemed lost in his thoughts, and smiled to herself.

The fields, the sky, the journey. ✧

She would remember it all.