Second chapter took a while to write but I think it's better than the first one. I hope you enjoy it because I'm aiming for adventure but also some dark moments like the old Don Bluth's movies. I enjoyed Don Bluth in the Nostalgia Critic playing Dragon's Lair and hope his next movie in 2016 is as memorable as his best movie, The Secret of NIMH.

XXX

Their conversation ended once a wet mess Mrs. Brisby almost didn't recognize as her son Martin ran inside. Behind Martin was the tip of a big black wing.

" Hiya everybody. I saw these two outside when the rain was coming; couldn't leave them like this. Make sure they eat something hot and let me tell you Mr. Ages...Timothy looks nice in his white vest."

The rest of Mrs. Brisby children were playing as fairy tale characters in her oldest daughters room. She didn't need a big explanation on how Jeremy could mistake a mouse never seen by her as one of her children anyway. The mouse looked unconscious but with her and Mr. Age's help she could revive him.

" Martin, why don't you dry off and play with Timothy, Teresa, and Cynthia. Jeremy thank you for helping Martin rescue this little mouse."

Martin tried his best to settle back in his home. The only problem was how he was worried the mouse might not live through his cold. Before Jeremy flew back home to his nest he had to help Mrs. Brisby find a good spot the mouse could rest on.

" I think Timothy's bed will help him rest." Jeremy said.

What a little rest could accomplish was what would aid the mouse in recovering. Mrs. Brisby helped the boy into bed simply by the crow's wing lagging behind her. After she made sure the room was glimmering with enough light her friend Mr. Ages came in with a bag full of important tools.

" I know I know where this mouse came from? He was once the pupil of Jenner."

" Why would he want to follow the teachings of that vile fiend?" Mrs. Brisby asked dearly surprised.

" Jenner told him his teaching could help him survive after his parents disappeared. But all he became was a tool."

" Does he have a name? His parents couldn't leave their son without giving him a name or better yet a nanny, uncle, aunt, or grandparents to him for them."

" That is a mystery of his life I cannot explain. His father was a man whose actions outweighed his words."

Mr. Age's had a big brain and good memory; it was with these he could create inventions and teach other mice's so they could become smarter.

Suddenly, dead silence filled the room as the unconscious little mouse moved a slow hand and crunched his fingers.

" You are all mouse's going to pay...see how it feels jabbed with something sharp in the back!"

Mr. Ages couldn't guess why a mouse would sound that way. He could only tell something wrong was happening to him and it was up to him to help.

He was right about the little mouse going to do something crazy. He was on his feet at full height, fingers wiggling for something to squeeze or a weapon to use, and he was looking at Mrs. Brisby and talking to her like she was someone he knew.

" I want you dead. Justin is next but he should have to be my first revenge victim. I'm coming back and going to put a blade through you and your whole fami-"

" Why don't you go back to sleep!" Mr. Ages yelled. He was trying to bang into him with a pebble.

Mr. Ages never knew he could have the strength to raise a mouse's picture of a stone body with his tired old hands but he nearly managed it. All that stopped him was young mouse's brilliance. The young mouse pulled three small sticks that were taped together out of his pocket. He snapped one stick and allowed the old mouse the chance to have a whiff of it. The sticks were taped together to hold a shiny object. Mr. Ages couldn't see what the object was but that was because it almost popped his eyes out from how blinding it was.

" Nooo!"

There was no attack now. He was a feeble old man trying to get past looking blind looking at the floor. " This boy is my disciple. He outmatches you in any idea you can come up with."

" Dear little boy, stop and be calm." Mrs. Brisby didn't want to use the sewing needle as a weapon but she had to do anything to defend herself.

What the little mouse did was stroke his chin. He was pondering and acting in a way no young mouse would. " I don't want a sharp object through me like you would undoubtedly use if we continue this charade. This boy was raised to investigate secrets and bring information for me and in time that will come again."

Not another word was uttered from the young mouse. He collapsed in what was the arms of Mrs. Brisby. A small trickle and then many tears were wept on what could be taking over this boy.

" Mr. Ages?"

Martin was looking at the old but brave mouse that stepped in trying to save his mother. A small gash on the left side of his head. He could stand on his feet again and refused Martin's help of assistance to stand.

" That fall really hurt my head but I'm alright now," he said after feeling his wound start to sting. " I don't know what went wrong with the boy. The dead don't just talk through boys."

" I also don't know what happened." Mrs. Brisby with the help of her eldest daughter Teresa carried the young mouse to Timothy's bed. " Maybe the Great Owl can tell us what is happening to this young boy."

Mr. Ages also figured that to be the best choice of action so they waited until the rain was gone so they could go see him. They left the kids in the hands of Mrs. Brisby's aunt Auntie Shrew the two of them saddled on the back of their raven friend Jeremy. He agreed because they were good friends and him having a date later needing her advice didn't hurt to ask.

" Don't be afraid," he said. " This time your on me not because you have to but because you need to be."

" If you need time to pick seeds or just smell the flowers remember I am here to keep your children safe and lazy free," Auntie Shrew called to her niece Mrs. Brisby.

Jeremy took off with Mrs. Brisby safely seated thanks to both experience and the new chair on Jeremy's back. Mr. Ages was sitting perfectly fine in his seat and he wasn't as experienced on Jeremy as she was.

Somehow Mrs. Brisby knew the news about the young mouse could be good but she knew she could help him.