Yiisse's nobility prizes magic– their royalty has made great strides to keep it in their line, "a gift straight from Naga" as they call it. When looking to merge houses, noble lines keep a sharp eye out for candidates with magic in their roots. The smallfolk, however, are not as reverent of it. In small enough villages, even minor talents can be burned at the stake for their power.
I. Soon after her father had died and she had been crowned Exalt, one of the first things Emmeryn had done was take possession of his study. When the young ruler wasn't spending time with her younger siblings she spent most of her off hours there, either looking over documents, studying magical tomes, reading treatises on strategy and leadership, or losing herself in the odd epic. It was a quiet place, and a place with enough space that Emmeryn could practice a few small spells without needing to worry too much about setting something on fire or disappointing a tutor.
Emmeryn had, ironically enough, been studying a tome on the proper usage of staves when Chrom came barreling into the study. He was babbling excitedly and dragging Lissa along by the wrist, his younger sister looking mostly just confused. Emmeryn listened to her brother's nigh-incomprehensible excitement for a minute or two– all she could pick out was the repeated mention of Lissa and the word 'amazing'.
"Chrom," Emmeryn stated in the calm but firm tone she usually used to shut the council up; it had a similar effect on her younger brother, making him snap his mouth shut. That didn't keep his mouth from grinning or his blue eyes from sparkling, though. Lissa had wandered out of Chrom's grip and was reading the spines of the books lowest to the ground.
Emmeryn put on a smile and said, "Now Chrom, tell me what you want to say. But please do it slowly."
Chrom's little mouth screwed up in a frown for a moment, then he grinned even wider; he pulled up his sleeve and held up his elbow for Emmeryn to see. She furrowed her eyebrows and leaned down to look closer…
Her fair brows shot up to meet her hairline. Chrom's elbow had a thin pale line on it, looking almost like an old scar. But what set it apart was its silvery sheen, and how the skin around the scar looked as smooth as it had been when Chrom was a baby. She'd treated many wounds with staves– and occasionally her bare hands when it was an emergency. She'd know a wound healed by magic anywhere.
The young Exalt's mind worked quickly; Chrom had been repeatedly mentioning Lissa. As far as she had heard, Chrom and Lissa had gone to play in the gardens with minimal supervision. Chrom had a remarkable talent for getting himself hurt. The gardens were too far from the chapel for the wound to be this freshly-healed.
Emmeryn's voice came out much slower than she intended; "Did Lissa heal you?"
Chrom's response flowed out like a waterfall; "Uh-huh! I cut my elbow when I fell and Lissa started crying and I told her it was okay but Lissa kept crying then she put her hands on my elbow and they started glowing like yours do when you use a staff and then my elbow healed! Lissa can do magic! It's amazing!"
Lissa looked over with a puzzled blink; "Wha?"
Emmeryn looked between her brother and sister with wide eyes before breaking into a wide, genuine grin; "Yes, Chrom! It is amazing!"
She swept Lissa up into a hug, further confusing her younger sister. Emmeryn remembered her mother disappearing soon after Lissa was born. She remembered her father glaring daggers at his youngest when her brand failed to surface. She remembered hearing the council whisper that a bastard daughter– especially not of the King's blood– shouldn't be kept in the palace while stealing furtive glances at Lissa. She remembered every time Lissa would wilt under their gaze– too young to understand the details but just old enough to know the intent.
But the Queen's line didn't have a drop of magic in their blood.
For the next week, Emmeryn would tutor Lissa personally in the basics of magic, and when the siblings walked by the council hand-in-hand Emmeryn would allow herself a self-satisfied smirk in their direction.
Just try throwing my sister out now.
II. Miriel was a keen observer even before she'd decided to follow in her mother's footsteps. One of the first things she had observed was that while many other nobles called magic a gift, her mother did not. One day, she asked her mother why.
Her mother had set down her tome and adjusted her glasses– a sure sign to Miriel that she was going to speak at length– and replied, "We have no concrete evidence as to magic's origin. We also have no concrete evidence as to the origin of humans. I find it a bit rash to call magic a gift when we do not even know who could grant that gift to us."
Miriel blinked owlishly; "What about the Gods?"
Her mother blinked similarly back at her; "What about them, Miriel?"
Miriel cocked her head to the side, and straight red bangs followed it; "The priests and clerics say the Gods made us. Wouldn't they give us magic?"
Her mother pushed some of her own red hair behind her ear; "The priests and clerics' only evidence for the existence of Gods is their faith and scripture from sources that cannot be confirmed. Without concrete evidence we cannot assume that these Gods exist."
From the next room, Miriel could hear her father sigh something about hoping Miriel wouldn't repeat that the next time he took her to a service. After all, Miriel did have a habit of repeating everything her mother said like the priests repeated the words of their scripture.
"Where do you think magic comes from, Mother?" Miriel wondered, sitting up straight again.
Her mother stared pointedly down her nose at her; "Remember the term, Miriel."
Miriel nodded hurriedly and corrected herself; "What is your… hippo-thesis, Mother?"
Her mother smiled softly; "Hypothesis, Miriel. But pronunciation aside, you have heard of Ley Lines, correct? Veins in the Earth that mages can tap into to make their magic stronger?"
Miriel nodded again, and her mother gave a curt nod before continuing, "Well, though there has never been an effort made to see what- if anything- exactly flows through these veins, I hypothesize that something indeed does flow through them that allows them to conduct and strengthen magic. This substance may even be the source of magic. This substance, whatever it may be, may also flow within the veins of mages alongside their blood. Environmental or familial factors may provide elemental affinities, and the focusing of will and control or embrace of emotion causes this substance to activate."
Miriel was about to nod a third time, but her mother spoke up again; "However. This is just a hypothesis, one that could very easily be wrong given the lack of evidence. The source of magic is one of the great mysteries of our world. One I intend to solve. And if I cannot…"
She smiled warmly at her daughter; "I fully expect you to continue that effort."
Miriel beamed back at her; nothing would make her prouder.