Hi guys! So. I have recently gone through and deleted all but one of the old owner of this sites stories. However, one other caught my eye. The Last Ignis, I am pretty sure it was called. I read the comments, and yes, I agree, the chick was a MAJOR Marysue *shudders*. So I am going to attempt my own version of The Last Ignis. Please drop me a comment on how you think I'm doing, and if you read the past one please review and tell me what you think of my version. There! That's pretty much it, actually. I'm just going to jump right into the story, instead of doing a prologue, because I have no idea where this story is going. Please R&R!

Frankie.

P.S I am looking for a beta! Please, if your interested, PM me!

Sorry. That's all. :)

Frankie.

P.P.S In this one all she can do is this: Burst into flames when she's MEGA angry and control fire. That's it. And her eyes still flash red when she is a little bit angry. Yeah. And for those of you who didn't read about her past for the recent one, GOOD. Because I want to keep her past still a mystery.

Disclaimer:I DO NOT OWN LOTR, JUST VASARIZA!

FINALLY:

CHAPTER ONE!

I sighed. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Hmm. I stood from the small log I had been sitting on, and brushed a stray piece of flaming red hair out of my eyes.

"I really need to cut my hair." I muttered to myself. You may think I'm weird, talking to myself and all. And in the middle of a forest, too. But I'm not crazy. I am not exactly sane, but I'm not crazy either. It's just I'm on my own a lot. Sometimes for 15 years. That's not that much for me, but still. I talk to myself so I don't forget how.

You are probably extremely confused. Let me explain.

My name is Vasariza Loale. A bit of a mouthful, yes. So I usually go by Riza, or Vasa, or something like that. I have gathered up a lot of names along the years. Just like the only other people I trust besides me. Aragorn, and Mithrandir. I am 9,000 years old (roughly – I don't really keep count) and I am of a species I can guarantee, you have never encountered before.

You are probably extremely confused.

Let me explain.

I am from a race called the Ignis. Only the oldest remember us, and to them we are extinct. And we are. Almost. I am the last.

Off that subject and into the here and now, I had recently heard whispers of a Council of Elrond, different races coming together to discuss what to do with the ring. Rumours were that it had been found. And I knew, from reliable… sources, that both things were true. So I was on my way to Rivendell. Imladris, as the elves called it. I, honestly, didn't particularly like elves. They just seemed… Stuck up. Ah well. I don't have to deal with them much anyway.

So. Back to the present.

I stretched my legs out, and turned to the flickering fire beside me. With a flick of my wrist, it was extinguished.

Ah. Did I mention I could control fire? No? Well. Now you know.

I walked over to a black stallion standing off to the side. This was my horse, Diandeil. He was one of the Mearas, who came to me a long time ago, when I was just a little girl – a century or so old. Back when I still had a family.

"Come on old friend. It is time to move on again, my handsome."

I whispered to him in elvish, stroking his nose.

I turned and mounted my self up on his strong back, before urging him onward, with some more quiet elvish words. On the way out, I made sure we trampled over the fire. I had already swept away as much of our foot/hoofprints as much as I could.

After all, in these times, you never know who's behind you.

REVIEW PLEASE! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS GREATLY APPRECIATED! IF YOU HATE, JUST LEAVE – DON'T FLAME!