Exotic Magics of The Varolian

Magic flows in abundance across the continent, and the vast majority of it is well understood by Mages and Priests. A symbol here, a phrase there, calculations and regulations throughout it all. The two largest categories are Arcane and Divine magic; the former is governed by Olsír; it can be studied and learned through research and practice, where one's knowledge enforces will. The the latter is the domain of all other higher beings, and generally must be granted specifically to worshippers and spirits, where one's faith controls power.
Yet, for all the hundreds of spells, enchantments, and powers that have been studied extensively, there remain powers out of reach for The Republic. Either through secrecy, strangeness, or impracticality, the magics below remain poorly understood - by the Assembly of Ósa at least.

Tongues of Heaven & Hell

Celestial and Infernal are the languages of angels and demons respectively, and seem to have greater power than the words of mortals. They can sooth or anger those who hear them, even extending to healing or sickening certain individuals. Though many have attempted to learn these languages over the years, it seems that the most one can do is understand it - to speak infernal requires a second voice to layer over the first, and celestial requires a choir to sing for the more difficult words.
Some meagre attempts have been made at replicating the sounds with magic or practice, but even then they do not seem to hold power. The truth is, this form of magic is only known about due to the existence of aasimar and tieflings, mortals closer to these otherworldly energies who are somehow able to speak their respective tongues naturally, without having to learn them from family or tomes.
One may argue this is simply another branch of divine magic - inherent to higher (or lower) beings - but unable to be granted to others. Recently it has come to light that these spoken languages have written forms, but can only be inscribed by willing another script to change. What these languages could be used for remains to be seen, but is a growing point of interest within the Assembly.

Elfsong

Elven religion claims that the world as it is known now was sung into being by the Gods, and that the music of creation continues to echo throughout the Cosmos even now. While there are certain mages who utilise magic via vocals or instruments that might support this claim, those skills are simply arcane magic expressed with different way than what most are used to. The one real shred of evidence to support their religion rests in Elfsong - when a group of aged elves gather into a choir, they can produce strange and wondrous effects.
The most common use of these songs is to bend trees into beautiful and structural shapes without harming them or stunting their growth. Plantlife has long been sung into form in elven settlements, without needing "crude" methods of carving planks or logs from mighty corpses; branches turned to bridges, roots forming benches, and trunks split into archways are oft seen features in forest villages.
It can also be used to heal the sick, or encourage nature to grow and flourish, though usually such things require more ancient members to accomplish. Most of the uses of Elfsong can be replicated and even improved upon by known magics - druidic mages in particular specialise in such things - so the main point of curiosity for most is the how it all works. There are no set words or symbols necessary, no memorisation required, and the strength of these effects seems directly tied to the ages of those singing rather than any arcane or divine strength. It is unlikely to be a useful form of magic and so is dismissed by most, but there are still one or two curious scholars that would love to learn more.

Elder Runes

It is common to use certain symbols, circles, or diagrams when casting spells, wards, or enchantments. They help to focus or store the energies provided them, and are a helpful tool to help organise a mage's thoughts in the process of using their magic. Yet for all of their utility, it is rare to find a symbol that is inherently magical - you could not simply draw the correct arcane diagram for Fireball on a table and watch it combust, after all.
And so it has come to the attention of many that Giants seem to possess some ancient or unique form of magic that allows them to control the world around them simply by carving their runes upon it. A storm giant slices a symbol into the clouds and a lighting bolt strikes down, while a fire giant ensures their weapons are slicing infernos with little more than a makers mark within the hilt.
Giants have long had a cautious, mistrusting relationship with The Republic, and so it is exceedingly rare that a mage can have a fruitful conversation with one, let alone ask them to share their ancient secrets, so research into this strange power is limited. The most well known study was a sorcerer who spent months under the tutelage of a friendly cloud giant, yet made no progress despite perfectly memorising all of the runes taught to him: "You still don't understand. It isn't something you can understand! It is something you feel. Like how you feel your breath in the sky, or your heartbeat in wartime."
The lack of progress led many to believe it was simply a magic inherent to giant-kind, that something within their biologies allowed them to use these runes, in the same way that an Aasimar speaks celestial but cannot teach it. That was, until knowledge came about that some goliaths have learned to utilise runic magic. But they are giant-kin, so perhaps it was still a matter of species? And then word came about that the dwarves could use a version of it as well. Most mages that once had an interest have given up on the concept, for the dwarves would never teach an outsider, and the other sources are unlikely to be able to explain in a way any human could understand. Yet, as is always the case in academia, a few fringe scholars remain.

Dwarven Crafting

The great city of Rithja is, according to some, the greatest of all wonders that mortal eyes could hope to witness. The artistry of dwarf-kind is renowned across the world, for their culture is one of crafting. Whether smithing, sculpting, painting, carving, or building, a dwarven master is likely to eclipse all other species in skill by far. So great are their abilities, that it is said dwarves can create magical items and functional golems simply as a byproduct of their art.
In other lands, if one wanted a magical weapon, they would first need to have it forged by the highest makers using the finest ingredients, and then sent to a powerful mage who could end up spending endless hours and a small fortune to enchant it. In Lofsjarna, a dwarf could set out to make their finest sword yet, and in the process create a blade inherently magical and capapble of cutting through steel. The accepted view is that these are simply myths designed to enhance the legend of the dwarven capital and discourage invaders. Even if it were true, no dwarf has ever explained how this works, and it is unlikely any ever will.

Undersea Magic

Even more secretive than dwarves (no small feat!) are the triton who live far below the waves of The Varolian. The materials available down there are often strange or unworkable by surface hands, making it all the more remarkable when ambassadors emerge wearing armour that appears carved from stone yet remains as flexible and protective as metal.
While they likely have miriad magics that have never even been witnessed by the world above, they are known to have mastery over water-based spells, and more recently an ambassador has been spotted weilding some form of magical coral. He has created subservient elementals from the jagged materials, and seems able to grow it at will, turning a small chunk into protective walls. When asked about the method, he said there was no word for it in surface language, but that the closest title he could have would be "gardener", implying that he can somehow manipulate rocks in the same way a druid might grow or control plants.
When pressed further, he explained he would not be allowed to teach anyone outside of his watery kingdom, and that many mages over the years have attempted to invade the undersea cities or people to gain information on triton magic, but all have been killed or rebuffed without political incident.

Avatar of Green

The latest, and perhaps most impossible to study of strange magics, comes from a man named Fearghal. As he gains infamy across The Varolian, more is learned of his abiilties. He holds a mastery over life and nature that few others could hope to compete with, though this alone is not special, for there are beings far more powerful with far more harmful magic that walk the land. No, what makes this man so special is that never once has he incanted a spell like a mage, carved a rune like a giant, or needed to sing a song like an elven choir.
He heals with a touch, grows a garden as he walks, and deflects devastating energies as though they weren't even there. The world bends to his will without the need for any of the words, actions, or components employed by all others who use magic in such obvious, seemingly non-innate, ways. There are some who claim this power is divine, that Fearghal is a God in the flesh, or perhaps at least a Demigod. Another emerging theory is that he is nothing more than a golem or elemental - able to use this power innately in the same way that constructs can affect the world around them with whatever power they were initially enchanted with.