Kin of Kings (The Kin of Kings Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

became interested to see how he performed.
    To be skilled enough to be accepted into the Academy took hundreds of hours over years, no matter which class a person chose. Psychics and chemists had to prove themselves differently than mages and warriors, but it was still just as difficult for them. They sent out a letter to the Academy weeks before recruitment day listing their address, a description of their abilities, and the name of their private instructor. A recruiter then interviewed both the teacher and the hopeful student. A demonstration of the applicant’s skill concluded the visit. When recruitment day came later, psychics and chemists were notified about their acceptance or rejection.
    This impoverished man couldn’t have been trained as both a warrior and a mage. Perhaps he knew a little magic and thought his chances were better as a mage.
    Something he said made Jackrie walk to the other side to speak with Marne, which then caused everyone in the training center to stare at the poor fellow. Alabell was too far away to hear anything, so she moved her cart closer.
    By then, the conversation was done and he seemed to have burned himself during his second attempt at casting what was most certainly the biggest and best aimed fireball of any mage that day, amazing Alabell. He nursed his hand on his way over to her, though he did stop to say something to the line of warriors that made their faces turn sour.
    He appeared quite smug by the time he reached her. “I seem to have lost some of the skin on my fingers.”
    She was shocked at how severe his burns were compared to his beaming smile. “Does it not hurt?” She was concerned he might’ve damaged his nerves.
    “It feels like my flesh is being ripped off, and every moment it’s getting worse.” His jovial tone made her laugh.
    “Well, I have some ointment that’ll relieve the pain and speed up your recovery.” She handed him a vial. “Make sure your hands are clean before you apply it.”
    He frowned. “Your hands look clean. Will you help me?”
    She noticed a handsome face beneath all that dirt. Her gaze drifted down to take in muscular arms and shoulders beneath his ragged clothing. He looked far more like the warriors she’d met at the Academy than he did the male mages.
    As much as she felt inclined to help, she couldn’t. “You need to flush out your wound before applying the ointment. The cool water should feel good as well.”
    His grin flattened as he checked his wound again. “Do you have anything that will clean it?”
    Of course, he has no money to use the spigot. I shouldn’t be so insensitive. Before she could come up with an idea, Mage Jackrie called the young man over to the metal fence of the training center.
    He hurried to her. She handed him a scroll through the fence. “Congratulations, Basen Hiller. But you’re going to need a wand full of sartious energy and at least two sets of clean clothing before tomorrow. Can you manage that?”
    “Certainly can, thank you.”
    Basen Hiller? Now she knew why everyone had been gawking at him.
    He jogged back to Alabell. “I’ll take the ointment and figure out something. Thank you.”
    But she didn’t hand it to him just yet. She opened her mouth, wanting to confirm that he really was the nephew of the late enemy king, but then realized an interrogation was the last thing he needed.
    So she gave him the ointment along with another potion—an extremely valuable one. “Take both. Sell the silver one to an apothecary. Make sure they give you enough coin for water, a decent wand, and some new clothing, because it’s worth a lot.”
    He seemed confused as he carefully slid his acceptance scroll into his shirt pocket and took both potions with his uninjured hand. “Why help me?”
    “Because a skilled mage shouldn’t be denied the opportunity of his life simply because he lacks money.” A thought came to her. “But let me write you a note so the apothecary owner doesn’t think you