Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Nadia Scrieva

  Pseudosphere, Month Twenty-Four

  Pax couldn’t sleep. That is, neither of her halves could sleep. As she lay beside herself, she was acutely conscious of the fact that she had been away from home for two full years.

  After some time in Room Four, the girls had begun to realize that their bodies had not separated into perfect copies. One of their halves was filled with all of their ambition and confidence, while the other half was plagued by insecurities and fear. This had resulted in many fights between the individual parts of each girl instead of between Pax and Amara themselves. They had grown to know and accept the unsavory aspects of themselves better; it had been fascinating to see the best and worst in each other perfectly partitioned.

  Let’s go sneak away while she’s sleeping and practice a little, the powerful half of Pax implored her counterpart mentally.

  The cautionary half was hesitant. Don’t you think we should conserve our strength in case of real danger?

  We should develop our powers in case of real danger, the stronger Pax insisted. Besides, we should use this opportunity—while we’re split in two, we can spar with each other. Amara never agrees to practice magick with you. This logic was hard to argue with, and both girls carefully rose from the sleeping area.

  I feel guilty leaving her alone here, the inhibited Pax admitted. She looked down at her friend and saw that there were dried tears streaked on her cheeks. Amara frequently cried herself to sleep—she was not faring well in the vector zone, physically or emotionally.

  But you want to. You’re sick of her holding you back, and you secretly believe that you would have been able to achieve a higher transformation by now. So screw her! Let’s go do that together. You and me. Me and me. Us.

  Okay. Let’s go. Pax and her other half strolled out under the empty yellow sky. It was not dark enough to feel like night or bright enough to feel like day—it was constantly one drab color that reminded her of the poisonous clouds of Venus. She found it depressing. She would have given anything to have a peaceful night stroll that looked like actual night. It also would have been nice if Thornton had been beside her, holding her hand. She missed the simple pleasures.

  “Why did I even come here in the first place?” the other Pax asked. “Oh, yes. Because I'm a lunatic.”

  “That’s not nice,” she scolded herself, feeling insulted. She continued to stare up at the empty sky, trying to remember the beauty of the stars. She felt like a part of herself was missing without the familiar universe—it reminded her just how far from home she really was. She was not just in a different place or on a different planet—she was in a different time, a different plane. It was mind-boggling and challenging to conceive.

  Pax did what she always did when she needed to feel close to home; she pulled her glove off her left hand, and allowed her eyes to drink in the brilliant orange diamond on her finger. A smile settled on her lips, and she felt simultaneously comforted and broken. Her hand began to shake ever so slightly, but her other self noticed this.

  “Oh, Lord Sakra. Will you quit your blubbering, Pax Burnson? You are a pitiful mess.” The other, identical girl rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Come on, let me distract you from your troubles.” She levitated off the ground and propelled herself away from their campsite at breakneck speed.

  Pax had to assume Ruby Form in order to keep up with herself. She could not help feeling inferior to the powerful woman flying ahead of her, although she was aware of how ridiculous that was. As they flew deeper and deeper into the realm of Room Four, the air around them became denser. It became challenging to move, and yet they pushed onward. Finally, both girls had slowed so much that they could not take another step.

  “Don’t be a pussy,” the stronger Pax said with a grin. “Use your prana. We can go further.”

  She nodded, and concentrated. After a minute of gathering her energy, she was able to continue moving forward for a few miles. When the density of the air made her feel like she was being crushed, and the concentration of acidity in the atmosphere was stinging her nose and fingertips, she gave up. Her head was splitting, and she fell to her knees, clutching her ears.

  “Get up,” the other Pax told her, gritting her teeth. “We can do this. We’re always pushing Amara further—how about pushing ourselves for a change?”

  “You’re right,” she answered, struggling to stand. Once she was standing face-to-face with herself, she felt better. She smiled, thinking that her dark hair and dark eyes were rather attractive, especially when she was angry or trying to act tough. She could see lines of red in her black irises from the Ruby Form. So this is what Thorn sees, she thought to herself. I can see what he sees in me.

  A few droplets began to fall from the rusty-looking sky. They burned her skin, even though she was in Ruby Form. Wincing, Pax watched the skin of her arms bubble and sizzle. Acid rain? A few more drops fell, and she frowned. A substance was left behind, coating her body similar to the way candle wax coated the skin. Except that it didn’t easily crack and peel off—it was liquid metal. The sky was raining liquid metal that was burning her skin and attaching itself to her body. When she pulled off the pieces of metal, her burned flesh came along with it.

  “Dammit. The gods who created this place were sick people!” Pax yelled. “It’s always something. Metallic rain? Seriously? We should go back.”

  “No,” answered her other self with a smirk. “Use your energy to create a shield around yourself. Come on, it’s easy. Don’t be such a ditz.”

  “You really need to stop insulting yourself,” she said, but she felt the sting of the words as harshly as the sting of the burning rain. She should have considered making a shield. The pain was greatest in her ears, nose, and fingertips, and she felt like these parts of her body might fall off. She wondered what would happen if she got too severely burned—she imagined that it was similar to having hot oil poured on her from castle walls.

  Amputations suck, she reminded herself, they really do. I may be a deva, but I still am made of flesh and blood. I have to be careful not to overdo it.

  The other Pax smirked at her evilly. “Come on, quit thinking so hard and show me what you’re made of. I’m not soft Princess Amara—are you ready to take on a real warrior?”

  “Good Sakra, am I really that cocky and annoying?” Pax mused, preparing to defend herself.

  “Yes. It must have rubbed off from spending so much time with Thorn. It’s a wonder you still have any friends,” said the other Pax as she yelled and charged at her counterpart.

  “Well, aren’t you charming?” The defending Pax focused on keeping up her shield against the odd elements while simultaneously blocking the oncoming onslaught. She knew her own fighting style, and knew that the other Pax was concentrating to imagine that her fist weighed several tons before she let it fly. Each blocked blow hurt as much as if it had been delivered anyway. Pax used her knees, elbows, forearms, and hands to block the attacks from hitting her more vital and sensitive areas, but it hurt all the same. Then she saw an opening and took it. It was her turn to attack.

  Not quite as fun as fighting with Thorn—this woman is a monster! She’s relentless. But then, when Thorn and I wrestle it usually always ends in sex. She is completely concentrated on making me, and herself, stronger. This is better. It doesn’t feel better, but it is better. After each Pax had had her turn to attack, both of them stopped and smiled and shouted, opening their mouths as widely as possible and letting out the most inhuman and unfeminine roars possible. The vibrations actually hurt her vocal cords, making her throat feel raw. She would never be able to shout like that on the Planet Earth. She should yell and yell in this void, reaching all the deepest fathoms of her power.

  She glared at herself, directly at her own hostile red-black eyes, and began attacking again without reservation, without mercy. She didn’t hold back or use caution as she had when she trained with Amara. She went all out, because she knew that this woman could handle the fight. It was a rare opp
ortunity. Every time her foot connected with jaw, her fist connected with abdomen, through every crack of bone and every rip of muscle, she felt incredible joy. She was only hurting herself. And she was really angry with herself. She had pissed herself off quite a bit lately.

  “You’re worthless,” said one Pax to the other, spitting out blood and laughing bitterly. “You’re nothing without him.”

  “Really? Because from the looks of it now, I am definitely worth something. We are powerful; we are strong. Why do I need him?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? You need him to define yourself. You need him to feel like an adult, like a woman. You need him with every fiber of your being, to love you into loving yourself.”

  “Shut up—where are you getting this from?” Pax glared at herself. She looked to the side, examining the landscape for any projectiles, and settled on a ruined church. She lifted her hand and used her telekinesis to rip the church out of the ground from its foundation, and grinned at her other half. “I’m doing okay without him, aren’t I? I don’t need him to do this.” She twisted her hand, sending the church directly at herself, steeple first. Her other self tried to block the attack, but the narrow spike of the church tower ended up impaling her through the thigh and pinning her to the ground. The rest of the church collapsed on her.

  Do you feel closer to god? she asked herself telepathically, with a chuckle.

  The buried Pax angrily dug herself out of the rubble. “Two can play at this game.” She lifted both her hands high above her head, and mumbled a few words of incantation in an ancient language. Her other self squinted, recognizing the words vaguely but unable to remember precisely what they meant. Her eyes widened when she saw that the entire city was being lifted from its foundation, and rearranged brick by brick into one giant club.

  “Oh, damn,” she whispered. She tried to create a dense pillow of air between her and the mammoth mace, but the mountain-sized weapon smashed down on her, pinning her to the ground. Her head spun, and she lay unmoving for several minutes, unable to hold onto Ruby Form. She felt her power disappearing. Okay, so that was definitely the worst thing that has happened so far, she told herself. You win.

  No, I haven’t won until you’re dead. I want to kill all the weakness in me so that I will never be pathetic again. If you’re dead, Thorn will lose his power over me, and I will never be hurt again. The other Pax, tossed the weapon she had used to bludgeon herself aside with a flick of her finger. But I’ll give you a chance to defend yourself. Get up and fight my fire with your fire.

  She could not believe what she was hearing. The dragon had tried to warn her—she was her own worst enemy. Of every trial she had faced in the Pseudosphere, the look on her own face was inspiring the greatest fear in her chest—because she knew what she was capable of, and she knew that she was serious. She had often entertained the thought of killing all the weakness in her, and now here was an opportunity. But was she really the weak half? Something felt wrong about that, for she was still fighting, and still enjoying the fight. Even her weakness was far stronger than Amara’s stronger half, and even her weak self felt like herself. She still felt like Pax. She could not determine why she deserved to live, but she knew that she did. She knew that she would fight herself for the privilege.

  When the other Pax curled her spine backward, she felt a tremor of fright. Oh, shit, she thought to herself, recognizing the attack before it came. It was what she had used against Suja on Venus—her banshee fire. The other Pax emitted a bloodcurdling scream before releasing the flood of fire from her mouth.

  Acting without thinking, she placed her hands out before her, creating a firewall. She immediately cursed, knowing that it would be ineffective. Her heart began to race, and she searched her mind for the solution. As the banshee attack ate through her firewall, she did the next thing which naturally came to mind. Placing both hands near her heart, holding them as though she were cupping a perfect sphere, she generated a pure white ball of energy. Like a white dwarf star, she thought to herself, closing her eyes. Hotter than the hottest flame—I am what remains long after the fires of temporary anger have burned away. The constant strength at the very core…

  Pax smiled as she flung the white fireball forth, like a beam extending from her heart. It collided with the banshee fire just as it broke through her firewall. She held her hands out to control the beam, inhaling deeply of the acidic air and trying to feed all of her power into the defensive attack. She felt overwhelmed by the desire to prove herself to herself—and it seemed that the only way to do that was to go all-out. It suddenly occurred to her that she should have teleported back to Amara once she realized that the other Pax was seriously intent on killing her—but now, the building explosion would surely consume and kill both parts of her. Somehow, death no longer mattered as much as fighting herself did.

  They both struggled to control the huge amount of energy that was building.

  You can fight, but I will win, her other half boasted into her mind. You’ve always been dependent on someone! Before him it was your father and your Grandpa Kaden. When you lost both of them, you turned to Thorn and poured all your excess love into him. Dependency!

  How can you accuse me of that? I love all of them, but I am still a woman standing on my own two feet. I deserve to love my family and my… fiancé.

  So you want to be emotionally enslaved to a husband? And then when he disrespects you by chasing other women—by sleeping with other women? Will you kill them? Will you drive all over the continent trying to forget? Will you allow your love for him to kill you?

  Tears came to Pax’s eyes at the truth of these words. Understanding finally dawned on her. You care about me. You’re trying to kill me because you care for me and don’t like to see me hurt. It’s actually really sweet—you want to destroy me all at once in one fell swoop instead of letting life slowly ruin my spirit, little by little. Because I believe that’s better. I understand you. I would happily die at your side, Pax—we are one and the same.

  The other Pax did not respond, but her attack faltered slightly. You’re dangerous to me, you know.

  I know. I’m sorry—but I can’t help being who I am. I promise to you that I am not weak. I am kind, and I am loving, but I am not weak. You should be able to see this from the way our attacks are perfectly matched. I can sustain anything.

  So—you think if we go back there… you think we can survive living on Earth again? Do you think we’ll be okay together? Because I’m not too sure. To be honest, the most terrifying dependence we have is not on a man at all—it’s Para. We’re too dependent on Para, and we need to grow comfortable being just Pax—just us.

  I know. I promise you that we’ll be okay together. No more driving around and escaping. I’ll be stronger for you. I know that you deserve the best of me.

  And you’ll remove his ring?

  Each version of Pax looked down at the ring on their respective fingers as they tried to control the prana in their attacks. I don’t want to do that. Thorn has been kind to me when there was no else. He deserves for me to have as much faith in him as I have in you. He’s part of me too.

  You’re wrong! The other Pax shouted desperately. Can’t you see what a huge mistake you’re making? You are still weak! She poured every last drop of energy into her beam. It began to overpower the white energy from the other girl’s heart. I can’t accept you as part of me!

  “No!” cried Pax, putting her hands up to block the attack and watching in disbelief as the energy seeped through her fingers.

  It’s going to kill me, she realized as her stomach clenched in terror. As her arms became engulfed by the attack, she knew that she needed her other self to be on her side in order to survive this. Help me, she begged. Please—if I can’t trust you to be on my side, then I should die! Please. We are one and the same. Accept my flaws—for I have always tried to be an asset to you, more than I am a liability. You know this is true.

  The other Pax swallowed, unable to watch hersel
f die alone. She felt herself crying and knew that she would be worthless without what was, in fact, the better part of herself. She pressed her hands against her abdomen and teleported behind herself. She wrapped her arms around the other woman and closed her eyes. Be in me. Be of me. Be with me. Only but fragments, let us be whole. Seamlessly we unite, soul to soul; My heart is yours. As she performed the coalescence technique with herself, the second half disappeared back into her body. But it was not enough—all of her energy had already been concentrated into the attacks against herself, and this amalgamated fireball was about to explode and disintegrate her to ashes. Find more power, Pax, she told herself, please find more energy. There has to be more somewhere inside of me.

  She pulled and pulled from deep within her and came up with nothing. Only more emptiness and longing. Thorn, she thought to herself, Thorn, I do need you. I can't do anything on my own—look at what a fool I am. I need you to save me now, just like you always did. But that's impossible.

  If I died out here my body would never be found. I don't think Amara can come this far out into the depths of Room Four unless we’re Para. The metallic rain and air density would stop her from searching for me. This is even further than Para has ever been. She suddenly wondered if she could teleport back to Amara. In the second that she moved one hand away from trying to control the blast it would surely engulf and kill her. But it was worth a shot! She tried to find Amara’s energy signal and inwardly cursed. Her friend’s life force was too faint and far away to sense.

  This is kind of a pathetic way to die. I’m not pathetic. There’s more inside of me. There must be.

  I need to show myself... I need to show myself that I can be strong without him. I need to show her that she is not wrong for having faith in me—I need to survive this blast. I don’t need him. I don’t need Para. I’m a deva. I’m a woman! I’m powerful as an individual on my own. She gazed at the ring on her finger, and suddenly felt ashamed to be wearing it. She felt ashamed that she could be dying with it on in a few seconds.