Page 163 of Moonlit Fate

“First, you need to visualize your mind as a fortress. It’s yours and yours alone. You decide who gets in and who stays out.”

“Okay.” Aria nodded, determination written on her face.

“Good. Close your eyes,” I instructed. “Focus on the core of who you are, the part of you that’s untouchable.”

Her eyelids fluttered shut, her breathing deepening. I watched her, admiring her strength, her willingness to fight back against whatever threatened her peace of mind.

“Imagine your thoughts, your memories. They’re precious treasures. You wouldn’t just let anyone handle them, would you?”

“No,” she murmured.

“Then don’t. Start building those walls.”

I could almost see her doing it, brick by brick, her inner sanctuary taking shape. She was a quick study. That sick feeling she had about the elders would be a thing of the past once she mastered this.

“Remember, this is your domain. No one else’s. Find our bond,” I told Aria, watching her face for any sign of strain or confusion. “Feel it and let it guide you to your core.”

Her brows furrowed slightly as she concentrated, the muscles in her face relaxing as she sought that invisible thread between us. It was something raw and primal, a connection that defied explanation.

“Got it,” she whispered in surprise. I could sense her triumph through our bond.

“Good. Now start building. Create rooms in your mind. They’re for your thoughts, your memories. Keep them safe.”

She nodded, eyes still closed, and I knew she was envisioning her fortress, constructing it thought by thought. It wasn’t long before frustration creased her forehead.

“They keep falling,” she said, her voice laced with fatigue.

“Rebuild them,” I said. “Stronger this time. Use the emotions behind each memory to reinforce them.”

Minutes stretched on, marked by her occasional sighs and the tension in her shoulders. Finally, she leaned back, her face pale.

“Done.”

“Now, make them impenetrable. Imagine something strong, a material or force that nothing can break through.”

“Okay.” Her lips moved silently as she focused.

“Lock those rooms up tight,” I added. It was the most important step. “It’s about control, about asserting your will over your own mind.”

After a moment, she grinned. “There’s a door. A lock.”

“Great work,” I praised her. Praise meant little unless it was earned. Aria had definitely earned it.

“Organize your thoughts and memories. Don’t rush it. This is a lifelong process.”

“Like filing away papers,” she mused, a hint of humor returning to her voice despite the weariness.

“Exactly. Some files are more important than others. Prioritize them. Make sure you can reach them when you need to.”

“Will do,” she responded, opening her eyes. In them, I saw the beginnings of a warrior’s resolve, the kind that would see herthrough whatever the elders, or anyone else, tried to throw at her.

“Ready for me to try to break through?” I murmured as I reached out with my mind, gently brushing against the barriers Aria had erected.

She shivered slightly, stiffening as she felt the probing.

“Feel me there? In your head?” I asked, keeping my mental touch light, like the brush of a feather.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice small.