The Ember Lord and Shade Lord lay broken across the ruined street.
Their forms still existed—molten plating cracked and dimmed, darkness frayed and thin—but the fight had clearly ended. Residual heat shimmered around the Ember Lord's fallen frame. The Shade Lord's tendrils twitched weakly against the cracked stone before falling still. Neither could rise. The prince stood above them with the calm posture of someone who had never needed to reveal the full measure of his strength.
The fact that he had defeated both Lords so decisively already told Tauriel everything she needed to know about her own chances. If those two could not stop him, nothing she possessed would.
The prince looked down at the Ember Lord in particular and smiled. It was not a cruel expression, nor a gloating one. It was quieter, almost contemplative.
"I could end you both right now," he said, voice carrying easily across the destruction.
