Chapter Four:
Traveling Riverside Blues
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Days pass in quiet loneliness. Sam hadn't so much as stuck a fin outside of the nest in all that time. If he was hungry he simply uncovered his wounds and waited for the damned fish to come by, and eat at them. He played with some of the opportunistic fish in his claws. Tearing off a specific right fin on their tails and watching them try and swim without it. Studying their movements in a detached kind of way. Sam's eyes were barely open, his thoughts straying away from the horrific events that happened all too recently, and now focusing on more simplistic things. As if he were protecting himself from taking it all in at once and loosing his mind to either grief, anger, or despair. His mind couldn't yet process so it went back to basic problem solving.
An eel came by his nest, drawn in by the still lingering scent of blood, and that one was caught and maimed as well. Sam stared near absently at the way the tail flipped about after loosing it's fin where Sam had lost his. Its head was caught tight in his fist as he watched it flip about before growing bored with it's squirming, and eating it.
After the fourth day, Sam saw his first dolphin. It was the oldest female of the Pod if he remembered right. She came in hesitantly closer. Bobbing her head at him and swimming slower than she usually would. A few more dolphins came up behind her but she clicked a soft warning at them to keep back.
Sam huffed a little water at that. Like he was a danger to anyone right now. He was about the same size as one of their juveniles, Dean had grown larger than the largest dolphin. Sam was told he was a runt several times by Dean, pointing out on the cliff face where his mom would mark out their progress and growth.
Sam knew Dean was only teasing and didn't mean any harm in it, but it did sting a little. Sam told himself that he will grow up bigger than Dean ever was and then choked back an unexpected sob at the realization that that was depressingly true. Unless he died here, he was going to outgrow Dean because Dean was dead. Sam was going to outgrow even his parents because they were dead.
Their parents had told the boys about other Merpeople, how they keep growing and growing, and that they didn't have to listen to the grand elders. Sam and Dean could find a mate, make a nest, and have their own kids at merely 70 years old if they wanted. A fifth the age and size of the elders. So Sam knew that even his parents, as big as they were, weren't even full grown yet. That there was no concept of 'full grown' among them. That had to be taught to them when dealing with every other species out there, save for special cases like lobsters and some hard shells.
Lobsters will keep on growing older, shedding their shells to get bigger until the day comes when they become too exhausted to shed their shell and they will eventually die in it from being constricted. Sam wondered if he stayed living in this nest if that could happen to him. He shook his head and idly watched the old dolphin swim in a few circles a dozen tail lengths away.
The fact that dolphins wont get any larger than they were now made him wonder what that would be like. To have their prey stay the same size relative to their own. They wouldn't really have to worry about finding new food sources as they grow older. The ocean was full of fish and it didn't look like it was going to run out any time soon. Dolphins could spend their whole lives perfecting their hunting methods for each specie of fish and creature but Sam wouldn't be able to do the same for more than a dozen years at a time. His hands wouldn't even be able to reach into the coral reefs for the fish and eels hiding there when he reaches 40 feet long.
Merpeople have to constantly change their diets to deal with the ever growing need for food. Many elders went mainly vegetarian with only the odd shark here and there. To non Merpeople, it may sound absurd, but, for them it's normal. It is easy for them to say that they occasionally eat something as deadly as a shark because sharks were only as long as their hand when Merpeople get to be in their hundreds.
The dolphin clicked at him and Sam realized that she hadn't just left out of boredom while he was stuck in his head. He clicked back for the dolphin to mind it's own Pod and leave him be. The old dolphin and the few others kept a respectable distance but stayed within eyesight of him, despite his grumblings and the few rocks he threw at them. The younger dolphins didn't quite grasp his intentions, and mistook the rock throwing for him wanting to play a new game.
Sam wondered if it was deeper than that, and that they were trying to play with him now since their last game ended so abruptly. That they remembered, and maybe felt guilty for how it all went down. Laughing in their own way at Dean's failure to find the right fish.
Forgetting that it was all Sam's fault to begin with. He's the one that screwed up the fish catch game. Not them. He's the one that made his brother angry. He's the one that ruined everything.
Sam threw a few more rocks but he purposefully aimed them out at the open waters instead of towards the dolphins. Until he remembered that they laughed too. They may not be completely at fault for angering and embarrassing Dean, but, they didn't stop their joyful whistles and clicks either. Sam turned a different glare at them again.
They had laughed at his brother when they should have been scolding Sam for messing up the game. Sam threw another handful out towards them but the rocks just drifted down in an arch towards the ocean floor. Several of the young dolphins dove after them after a moment's hesitation and swam around with them in their mouths, clicking around the rocks at their friends. Sam didn't know what was said but he saw that they were now organized and taking turns dropping and catching the rocks all around his alcove. Having the rocks fall from above his nest to be within reach of him if he chose to play along. They seemed to want him to throw the rocks some more, but he caught on to their trick and hissed through his teeth at them.
They clicked back at him before resuming the new game they'd made up. Sam could see out of the corner of his eye that several of Dean's closest dolphin friends were whistling and clicking at each other and looking back over at him. Sam didn't have to speak the language to know that they were talking about him. What he didn't know was if it was good or bad. If they were blaming him as much as he blamed himself. Or, if they were mourning the death of their friend and felt sorry for Sam loosing his whole family. It seemed to be the latter the more he watched them interact and how listless they became. He decided he didn't want to know what they were saying to each other.
Dolphins still needed breath at the surface, so nearly the whole pod took shifts in watching him. All hours of the day.
Sam just turned in place to face the wall and ignored the occasional tapping of a small rock falling down the side of the cliff, and the corresponding whistles and clicks to entice him into playing along.
After two more days, it wasn't the dolphins, or silence, or knowledge that there was nothing for him there anymore, that got him out of his old nest. Try as he might to ignore it, his hunger won out in the end. His wounds had sealed closed yesterday, and the fish stopped coming to take a bite of him, therefore, his convenient food source had finally dried up.
The dolphins were still within eye and earshot of him, but had to move on one half of the pod at a time to go hunt their own food. Each half also taking turns going up to breathe before coming back down and trying yet again to get him out of his nest.
Sam's stomach grumbled again and started to hurt the longer he was curled up in the nest. So, he swung around his stiff and sore tail from the deep bowl of the nest to lay it out straight on the hard floor of the shelf. It was narrow but free of rocks now, and only a few hand lengths to the drop off of the cliff. Sam was tired of laying around in the soft kelp that was slowly rotting away in the water. He hunched over himself to reach his tail better with his hands. His tail hurt from being curled still for so long and now that it's stretched out straight on the flat surface he could feel the muscles twitching under his scales. His fins along the sides of his tail rippled and stretched and it all felt odd to him now.
Laying in bed, barely moving for too long had made his muscles seize up on him a moment later. He massaged his fingers into his tail to get the cramps and kinks worked out of his muscles. He lightly scratched at the edges of the healed wounds and frowned when they didn't bleed right away. He had hoped for one more day of rest using the excuse that he's still healing, but his stomach protested the thought. He was very hungry and food wasn't going to just appear in front of him anymore. He had to go get it. That, or, get the dolphins to feed him. He shoved that thought away the second it entered his mind. He's not going to make them do his job for him. They had their own mouths to feed. Sam's fully capable of finding his own food. He simply didn't want to... just yet. Sam knew he was pouting and being lazy, but did it anyway. Not like he cares that he has an audience for his foul mood.
He's tired, he's hurting and he's hungrier than a grouper fish.
Sam swung his tail down the edge of the shelf to wave in the water around his sitting form. Not yet ready to swim yet, he turned his head to see how far he could stretch his wing fins out behind him as well. Slowly flapping them in the space around him to work those muscles as well. The movement created by his fins made the kelp of his nest cloud up around him and drift away. Sam moved his wings harder to swish more of the rotting kelp off of the sleep shelf and into the open waters. Noticing that without all that kelp, it was looking more and more bare and less like home.
Sam flapped his wings harder, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes at the sight of the nest drifting away piece by piece. Telling himself that it's for the best. If there's nothing here, nothing comfortable or comforting, there's even less of a reason for him to come back here. Why weep over a small shelf carved out of a cliff? There's dozens of these all along the cliff, this one just happened to be big enough for them when they were younger. It was never meant to be their home permanently. Sam had to talk himself out of the idea of carving it out bigger when he himself grew larger. He knew that one day, he'd simply be too large to sleep here. His parents were proof of that. They would never have been able to fit inside the cliff, to use it as a sleep shelf nest. Sam's just leaving the nest before he outgrew it. He doesn't need it anymore.
Sam swiped the back of his hand across his eyes, smearing the thick tears off of his face and taking a few steadying breaths. He's not a baby anymore. He's in charge of his own life now.
Sam twisted his tail in the water some more, flexing it up and down, side to side and curling a far backwards as he could while still sitting on the shelf. He nearly had to remind himself how his fins should move in order to swim and keep himself upright. His wings felt better now that they were able to move properly for the first time in days.
The sudden shift in movement had nearly every dolphin there take notice and swim excitedly closer. Urging him on while clicking happily.
Sam scowled at their renewed joy and was tempted to go right back to sleep but his bed was drifting down to the ocean floor and he didn't want to sleep on the hard rock. Besides, his stomach was gnawing at him painfully now. He reluctantly swished his tail around, stretching out the muscles and he toyed with the dwindling wrappings around his wounds. Lifting the kelp ropes and cushioning up here and there and finding the scar beneath. Clear jagged teeth marks in his skin. A line of dashes that curved around his tail, marking out where every one of the shark's teeth had entered his body. He closed his eyes to will away the memory of that fight and opened them again to assess the wounds. They had healed pretty well considering what had happened and how inexperienced he was at bandaging such a brutal wound. He didn't even have any of the salves that his mother knew how to make. All he knew was that it had smelled bad and stung whenever she put it on his small cuts and bites.
Sam traced a finger along the bite marks and noticed something white laying in the place where the kelp nest had been. His gaze revealed a few of the shark's actual teeth laying there where he'd slept. They must have worked their own way out of the wounds. Sam had been too distracted by everything to notice that he'd actually had them embedded in his tail from the fight, all the way to the nest. He remembered now that he didn't get them all earlier. He was in far too much pain in that area to pinpoint exactly which hole had how many teeth remained inside it. He thought he'd gotten them all on the swim back. At least they're out of his tail now.
Sam picked them up and turned the sharp triangular shaped teeth in his fingers. Each one the length of his little finger. Sam toyed with the idea of simply throwing them off of the cliff into the deeps but he stopped himself. Staring at the two little teeth and blinking at them. He tore off a bit of the fresher, stronger, strings of kelp and braided them into a long thin rope. Remembering his mom's lessons in how to do so. His jaw tightening at the memory that came to mind. How his mom had to use full lengths of kelp instead of some of the stronger internal strings. Since her hands were so much larger, it was easier for him to follow along with his own scaled down braided rope.
She mentioned while she worked that she saw this kind of rope a long time ago when they were still in their old Pod. How that braided rope was shining in some areas and dark red in others. She said it was something called 'metal' and that it didn't last forever in the water. She said it was attached to some overturned things that had once floated on the surface and it was very useful to Merpeople because even though it was thin in their hands, it was much stronger than their usual kelp ropes. Problem is, is that Merpeople rarely went to the sunken wrecks to scavenge around. Most said that they could become sick from swimming in the tainted waters around the wrecks. Pointing out the dead areas that often surrounded the sites.
After a moment, Sam remembered her shaking her head in worry and warning him away from investigating those places or else he'd be sent to the nest for two days as punishment. That material, 'metal' wasn't worth his health or his life. Sam felt like it was his decision to make for how he lives his life now. If she could use the metal ropes, he could too if he found any.
His eyes unfocused for a second before widening a little. His mom was talking about the same kinds of shining vines that he saw wrapped around her body, as well as the lines going from the floating thing to his dad's dead body. Blinking at the new knowledge that those floating things can and do sink. That they had to be the same sunken wrecks his mother talked about. Trying to remember what that 'metal' stuff looked like so he'd know to grab it when he saw it. If it was stronger than the strongest Merpeople he knew, then surely it was strong enough to use against his parent's attackers.
Sam looked up at the surface, past the dolphins and the schools of colorful fish towards that bright circle above. Those horrible things can die too. Sam let that idea swish around his head for a few minutes. Encouraged by that fact. All he had to do was find more metal things and make similar weapons out of it. Then he'd need to find those big floating things again. He had to make sure they never float again. That they never hurt anyone ever again. Had to make sure that they pay for what they did to his parents. His family.
Sam felt something stir inside him, a half formed plan being made. He had to avenge his family. He had to avenge them all. Not just from the floating things, but for Dean as well. He vowed to take out every single shark he can. But in order to do that, he'll have to grow up to be bigger than them. He'll have to eat a lot more, exercise, become stronger and a fierce hunter to be able to take them all out.
Sam's heart started to beat with a purpose again. He grinned a little to himself. Part of him glad that he didn't give up like he wanted to a week ago. Of course, there was no one around to blame him if he did. Sam shook his head at that. He can't change the past. He wishes like crazy that he wasn't alone but that doesn't stop the facts staring him in the face. He is alone. He's going to be alone. He might never find another living Merperson again.
And he's just going to have to deal with that. Deal with it... or die.
Sam peered back down at his hand where the two shark teeth were poking his palm. Nearly drawing blood. He narrowed his eyes at that. No more blood will be shed from him. No more will he cower in this dark nest. He's not going to let it bring him down. He has to keep going to kill those that killed his family. What kind of a son would he be, what kind of a brother? If he just lets them go free? Who knows how many those floating things killed? It might not just be his parents. They might go after other Merpeople too. He's gotta find those floating death traps and bring them down.
Sam's attention went back to his braiding and found it was mostly done already. His hands working away while he thought about his life now. He took his time in wrapping the teeth individually with a bit of the thinner strings, and then binding them into the longer kelp rope, turning it into a long necklace. He stared at it in his hands for a few moments, ignoring the curious dolphins diving in closer and closer to see what he was doing. He lifted it up, gaining the attention of the whole Pod who clicked and chirped at him in questioning waves.
He lifted it over his head and laid it over his chest. Fingers grazing over the teeth and straightening and tucking in a few of the stray strands to look better. Chin tucked to his chest to see how it looked on him. Then facing the dolphins who were watching his every move. He gave a slight nod to them and they bobbed their heads back at him. He guessed they approved.
With that done, he braided another length of kelp rope and made a loop of it to tie around his waist. He grabbed a small bag that Dean had woven and put in all of the sharp carving stones that his brother fashioned. Dean didn't like eating the skin of the purple fish so he figured out how to cut it off using a nearby sharp edged rock before eating the meat underneath. Quickly figuring out that he can make more of those cutting rocks for other needs as well. Enthusiastically teaching Sam how to do it too.
Their parents were very impressed and congratulated his older brother on his ingenuity. Sam was a little jealous of the attention and grabbed one of his old sharp stones and wrapped one end of a long blade with kelp to handle it better. It was perfect! Their hands wouldn't be cut when they held on tight making it easier for them to swing the stones around with more confidence. Together they had a secret competition to see who could make the best knife. Most of the early knives broke into pieces if they were careless in their handling, but, that only spurred them on to making stronger ones next time. Not sacrificing strength for sharpness. Of course, there were a couple that were kept thin and brittle for tiny detail work. These Sam wrapped up separately with some seaweed leaves. Hoping they'll stay together in the bag when everything's gathered.
Sam grazed his hands over them and remembered how proud Dean was of each one. Not just the ones he'd made but the ones Sam worked on too. Sam could swear he could still hear an echo of the round palm sized stones hitting the cloudy black see through stones and making a perfectly straight line with a sharp edge. Both brothers spent days figuring out which stones worked best for each task. Sam made sure to pack every one of them. If they can cut skin off of a fish, they can cut a shark's hide just as well.
In all, he had two small detail blades, three different rounded tool stones, and four different sizes and styles of blades with handles. He left the broken things there. Already his woven bag felt a little heavy and he can't pack up every little rock shard.
Sam turned to the side to look at the only place he'd called home. There were very few things there that his parents had brought with them from their old Pod. Left leaning on the cliff face far below where they'd slept.
He was tempted to try and take them with, but they were just too heavy for him to maneuver easily. All except for the shining hook with the barbed end. It was in the far end of the nest site. Sam figured that Dean must have snatched it from his dad's stuff at some point to play around with it without any of them knowing. Sam can see why Dean took an interest in it. How useful it would be.
The hook's handle fit into his fist perfectly. He swung it around in the water and admired how impressive it looked. Much stronger than any stone blade, the hook wouldn't break no matter what it strikes. Not like the stone blades where if they hit another stone the wrong way - no more blade.
He made another length of rope from his nest kelp and tied one end to it. Not wanting to have to carry it around in his hand the whole time he's swimming, he tied the end of it to his belt and tucked it next to his ruined hip fin. He sighed at the sight of its sharp edge. That's just an accident waiting to happen. Sam decided to wrap up the point with more kelp to keep it from stabbing himself. Of course... It's not like the hook could hurt his shredded fin any more than it already was, but still, he didn't want to temp fate and hurt something else next. The hook could be turned into a weapon just like he saw on those floating things. He firmed his jaw and imagined himself using it against sharks. If only he'd had this...
Nevermind that now. It's done. Now, he's on a mission.
He finally, finally, got off of the nest and hovered in place in the water. His muscles all burned a little from the lack of use, but it also felt good to stretch them out again.
Sam had to relearn how to swim without his right hip fin. The torn parts were still scabbed over and hurting when he tried to use it to keep himself straightened out and upright. His right wing fin soon compensated for the lack of thrust and he bit his lip at the pain the newly sealed wounds were making. It would still be some time before he could stop his instinct to use that ruined fin for swimming. He put his hand over it to keep it pinned to his side for now.
Sam adjusted the bag towards his left side, with the hook on his right to even the weights out on his belt.
Sam turned to face his home one last time. Taking in the sight of it and memorizing what it looked like from a practical standpoint. It was always something that had just been there. He never had the need to study it's composition. The sand that his parents brought up from far below, on the ocean floor, was a kind of base that was softer than the hard rock beneath it. Filling in the gaps in the rock and smoothing out the edges. Sam took in the kelp bed on top and noticed that it was comprised of long strands of kelp that had been folded over itself many times before woven together with more kelp rope that his parents made. They must have to be replaced often or so or else disintegrate or start to smell. Sam never really paid it much attention when his mom was fidgeting with the nest site. He'd have to know how to build a nest in the future. Because now... now there was no one around to teach him.
Sam wiped his face and ran claws through his hair lightly. Combing it back. He knew how to make the other things there already. Sam lifted up his barbed hook weapon and made sure his shark tooth necklace was on straight. He was the last surviving family member and the only one to represent them now if he did happen to run into other Merpeople. He didn't want his appearance to dissuade others from meeting him. Already he'd have to make up for the ugly wounds on his tail and hip. Seen as weaker than them, no doubt. His hand clutched tighter at the ruined fin. Sam knew he had his work cut out for him. Surviving on his own. Out into the open ocean. He'll have to fight every day to survive to see another. He firmed his jaw and swam up straighter.
Sam turned in place and faced the vast dark blue water ahead. Taking it all in as if seeing it for the first time. He took a long pull of water in and out and set off. The dolphins seemed to be cheering him on as they sped alongside him, diving up and over and around him. Sam knew that he had to make a decision now. He knew that the dolphins would probably follow him and keep him safe till the end of his long days, but he felt like he had to prove his independence now. Merpeople live for hundreds of years and dolphins don't.
Sam slowed his swim as he regarded the young ones that played around them all. Slowly realizing that they'd be the ones to continue traveling with him and then their kits, and their kits after that. For generations. Forgetting why they ever started following him in the first place. Dolphins were loyal and smart but he felt he didn't deserve to call them family. He'd be responsible for them when he grows larger than the largest one. Likely becoming their leader. Sam scoffed at that thought. He was no leader. He didn't want to be, and he felt he wasn't cut out for the job, now or later. No, he had to do this alone. He was not going to be responsible for them and on the flip side, he couldn't rely on them to save his scales. They had their intelligence and small sharp teeth but he's got those too, as well as sharp claws on his hands. He just has to practice using them and the blades the next time a shark comes around.
The floating things traveled to and from far away and he would hate himself for dragging the innocent dolphins along on his dangerous mission. Their food and home was here along the cliff face and he'd never forgive himself if any of them got hurt or died because he led them away from safety.
Sam angled his swim closer to the ocean floor and the dolphins had to take a few deep breaths of air before attempting to join him down there. He could hear their distress and urging him to get closer to the surface but ignored their chirps and whistles. He wouldn't attack them just to drive them away in case he accidentally made contact with them with his claws. He can't do that. He wont. So, he pretended he didn't hear them, and kept swimming downwards and away.
He rubbed his free hand over his face as he tried to keep his expression blank and mind set when a couple of the dolphins darted down far and fast towards him. Panicking that he was going too far for them to reach. One swam underneath him and pushed him upright and the other caught on and did the same when Sam tried to dodge. The two dolphins taking turns pushing and bullying him higher before they ran out of air and had to dart to the surface again to breathe. Sam looked up and saw them telling the others the plan and Sam wouldn't be able to stop the whole Pod from shoving him back up if they put their mind to it. There were so many of them, they could keep it up in shifts for days.
Sam took the few moments he had alone to swim hard and fast straight down and managed to avoid being seen by the dozen that came down looking for him. He twisted around and doubled back in the water, heading home again. They kept searching for him in the direction he'd been going and soon were lost in the blue current and swarms of fish.
He hated having to deceive them like this, but he just couldn't endanger Dean's friends. His life wasn't going to be easy whatsoever. So he waited for them to move on away from him, watching silently as they turned back and started searching for him closer to the safe cliffs. Glad that they came back towards their home. Their clicks and whistles dying out in the water. He waited for a little while longer before moving from his spot on the sloping ocean bottom.
He sang quietly to himself, a few of the songs that his mom would sing to him when they were sad or lonely. Tales that had been passed down from the elders in the old Pod. He ran out of songs when he ran across a long metal pole in the sand. There was a lot of strange things laying around in one area and he surmised that they must have been dumped there by the floating things. Recoiling back from it for a short while as he waited for the things to spring up and attack him.
Nothing happened, and he flicked his tail at the pole and felt how sturdy it was despite the barnacles on it's surface. He reached forward and wrapped a hand around it and noticed that the barnacles actually made it easier to hold on to. He flipped it around and it clinked on his hook and he had an idea.
He felt uneasy about using any more of the floating thing's stuff, but the simple fact was, was that he couldn't use a wooden stick underwater for too long before it disintegrated. Sometimes driftwood would sink and it would loose its sturdiness. He never knew what the sticks looked like when they were alive, if they were ever alive, he just learned that they came from the surface somewhere and would collect at the ocean's floor or float along up top. His dad taught them everything he knew about everything. But even he didn't know where those wooden things came from.
In the end, this long metal stick would be a better choice for his hook.
Sam used his handmade rope to bind the large sharp hook to the end of it and swung it around in the water. Learning how he could use it effectively as a weapon against things bigger than him. Getting a few scratches from the hook's sharp end in his fins and wings before learning to keep them pulled tighter to his body for the moves. Jabbing it at an unseen enemy, and after a lot of patience and practice, actually managed to catch a large fish with it that tried to hide inside a deep crack in the ocean floor. All he had to do was dip the hook stick into the crack and swing it along and upwards and suddenly he had a meal ready to go. Watching the fish writhe around that was skewered through it's middle. Smiling for the first time in days at his accomplishment. He caught a fish without even using his hands.
Proud of his skills, he had a feeling that it will be alright. All he has to do is get better with this weapon and keep his senses open for trouble.
He was exhausted after all the excitement and traveling he did in the last couple days. Since he hadn't really moved during that first week after his family died, he knew he'd need someplace safe to fall deep asleep.
Sam found a little rock pile close to a larger boulder. He dug out underneath it to see what was underneath and was happy to find that it could be used as a makeshift cave. He spent a bit of time moving the smaller flat rocks around the boulder that formed one over hanging wall. Satisfied that the rocks should protect him from view of larger predators, he gathered up the surrounding sand and shoved it over the rocks to help hide it's overall shape. A lot of sand fell down into the hollowed out center and he grumbled as he had to remove it again or he'd never fit in there. He had no way of closing up the entrance so he'd just have to face it and have his hook ready as defense.
It wasn't much, but it'll have to do. His hook was held tight to his chest in his fist, and his tail curled up and around himself as cover to keep the overhead sand from falling on his face. His left arm pillowed under his head while his wings came up and around both sides to protect himself as best he could. He wondered if this will all come crashing down on him while he's asleep, but, he had to trust it will hold. Too tired and worn out to try and find a better spot to sleep. His body demanded it.
In the quiet darkness, his heart ached. He missed his family. Missed his dad's teachings, his mom's singing, his brother's teasing. He missed everything, but, he had to go on living. His life was no longer pointless. He had a goal and a mission to accomplish.
He will avenge his family.