Tazi stood tall and answered, "As long as slavery is present in this land, Zulkir, I doubt very much that I will return."

The lich looked disappointed to Tazi. "Then that is the true tragedy here today," he remarked sadly. "For I will most likely never see you again. As long as I exist, slavery will always be a way of life here in Thay. And I can promise you, I will be here for a very long time." And he gave her a grave look.

Tazi ran her hands over her person one last time to make sure she had all her belongings and strode over to the door. At the portal she turned and looked at the necromancer, who was, in turn, watching her.

"Perhaps I will find my way back here one day," she told him darkly. "And I will put a stop to your slavery once and for all."

Szass Tarn rose to the challenge. With a gentle smile on his lips, he replied, "My dearThazienne, you are just one woman, albeit a remarkable one, and one person cannot bring about change."

"Zulkir, turn around and take another look out that window," she directed him with deadly seriousness. "Take a long look at what just one person can do."

The lich turned to the window and observed the carnage and death before him. He wasn't displeased by what he saw. Instead, he was once again impressed by the will and the strength of the woman behind him. He vaguely entertained the notion that he might have finally found a match for himself, someone worthy of sharing eternity with.

He turned back toward Tazi. "While you may have-" he stopped short when he saw the room was empty. She had managed to slip away without his notice. A slow smile played on his full lips.

"Ah, Thazienne," he whispered to himself, "perhaps our paths will cross again sooner than you think."

¦(c)¦

Tazi left the Citadel and stepped out onto the cool lava flow. From where she stood on the Thaymount, she could see the Second Escarpment stretch out before her. To the east, she was able to make out the peaks of the Sunrise Mountains. Beyond them, she knew the Purple Plains and the Endless Wastes lay. And somewhere beyond sight was Sembia and her family home.

Tazi stood on the windswept hill, and her hair swirled around her like a living thing. She thought of the necromancer's words again about choices and consequences. She thought about Justikar and how he felt he had to assume his brother's place, though his sibling's dream had not been his. He did it for family and obligation.

She pulled the crimson gold dagger from her boot and balanced it, point down, on her finger. She remembered how the dwarf had told her the dagger would make a more fitting gift for her father as a symbol of what she had become than the raw metal alone. But did she really need to give him anything other than herself?

"Isn't the person I have become," she whispered to the wind, "the truest gift I can make to you, Father?"

On that bleak mount, Tazi realized she could do whatever she wanted. And she understood, as she saw the death around her, with that freedom there came the greatest of responsibilities. Tazi recognized that she did not need to return to Selgaunt, nor did she need to explore the mysteries of Faerun. It was her choice. She laughed and sheathed her dagger. She made up her mind and started down the path.

In a land renowned throughout the Realms for its heinous slavery, Thazienne Uskevren realized she was finally free.