She looks around at her surroundings, and sighs.
No one appears to speak Quenya! One girl sitting near the front tries four other languages, all still unfamiliar.
"Illia Zavier," she says, gesturing to herself.
She has a brief conversation in the first language with the man that ends with him writing something on a piece of paper in an unfamiliar alphabet much less pretty than the Tengwar. He gives her the paper and she says something in a tone of polite request and gestures for Mirelote to follow her.
She leads her through a corridor that isn't quite pretty enough, through a garden that is, and into another building, where she locates a particular closed door and raps on it. A woman with wispy white hair and a large number of wrinkles emerges. Illia shows her the note and she begins trying more languages, quite a lot of them.
She frowns and says something to Illia, who nods, and then writes something on the other side of the sheet. Illia leads her to another building, and knocks on another door. This one is more like the one she was originally in, although the tiers are straight lines instead of curved. She has a brief discussion with the woman standing at the front of the room that involves Illia brandishing the note.
The woman accedes, and calls something up to the seats. A woman comes cheerfully down; unlike most of the people here, she has her hair decently braided. She leaves the room and smiles at Mirelote. "Odette Zavier," she introduces herself.
She gestures for her to continue speaking.
...She giggles and shakes her head, and points a finger at her ear and then snaps her fingers, sending a small shower of multicolored sparks flying.
She nods. "I--understand," she says haltingly, mimicking the Quenya clumsily.
...She is deeply puzzled by this question in some way she does not have the vocabulary to communicate.
"Base ten," she says after a moment. "...Divine?"
She makes a so-so gesture. "Mandos...divine?"