We only have one.

Aten, the sun-disc, God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, who led the Hebrews into Egypt and brought them prosperity there, who gave his revelations unto the prophets and delivered them from the pain of their workings so that they might perform miracles, The Lord, thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal...

Well, according to my religion anyway.

The creator of our world is called Eru, Ilúvatar, father of all, and he is not said to be evil.

Sounds more like our concept of Aten than these Valar, in some ways.

The Valar are his agents in creation, but Morgoth rebelled against creation and now tries to deal the world as many hurts as he can. Your powers spring from your god?

I mean, maybe? Insofar as he created the world and magic with it, I suppose. Anyone can do magic, but not everyone's willing to do the hurting it takes to do anything serious.

Dark amusement. I wonder if you can teach us.

Um. I should warn you. Magic doesn't just hurt. It...changes you. I'm as good at magic as I am because I'm very resistant to the mental side-effects of sympathy magic, so I could make myself algolagnic, but most people who did as much sympathy magic as I do would be a simpering ninny incapable of disagreeing with anyone right now.

That does sound concerning. Are there other kinds?

Effort magic, which makes you more stubborn, and Conquest magic, which makes you more forceful and direct. When I tried to teleport just now, that was Conquest magic. I try not to use it too often, because I'm not especially more resistant than usual to Conquest's side effects.

Would you like to come in so we can discuss this further, without an audience of thousands?

An audience of thousands?

You are shouting your thoughts; we can all hear them. Was that not deliberate?

I'd never even heard of something like this before today! But she's quite obviously pleased by its existence. How do I not shout? How would you propose to have a more private conversation, we still don't have any languages in common.

Osanwë does not translate; we are probably capturing only the edges of each others' meaning. We could learn quickly, though, speaking and thinking at once. Once we are in the same place I expect you will be able to direct instead of shout. 

So she has to be a Man, if the strangest one. Perhaps the magic explains that she is not decaying as most Men do.

Osanwë. So that's what it's called.

I'll come in. Do you have any aesthetic or other linguistic preferences? I speak several with equal expertise.

One of my brothers will eventually desire to learn all of them, then. I personally have no preference.

About that or, well, in general. Preferences were peacetime luxuries even for everyone else. 

"Hello," she says in Genoshan when she reaches him.

If you continue broadcasting intent while you speak we should learn quickly. "Hello."

"Of course," she says, and thinks. "Let me know if I'm still shouting to everybody."

"Shouting less, but not private. Try being aware of your thoughts as addressed to me."

"Yes--actually let me try something."

This Osanwë was clearly something of this world, something not native to her own nor a capacity she naturally had.

But why shouldn't she have it? She was Odette Zavier, the woman who claimed masochism through sheer resistance to her own Sympathy, why shouldn't she--drawing a tiny bit on each person within this tower for a model--why shouldn't she have this capacity to?

The stinging headache of mind-magic barely registers.

He watches patiently. She seems to be trying to acquire something, but it doesn't seem hostile exactly so he's not immediately inclined to interrupt her.

Okay, how's this.

Her thoughts feel much more normal now, if still oddly untrained.

"Yes. Yes? I can - " he reaches out for the words, but now she's doing something different and they're harder to find - "hear you, but you're private. Is that what you intended?"

"Sort of. I was copying your telepathy. People can't just talk mind-to-mind in my world, and I wanted to be able to."