A/N- Heyo! I'm back with the next chapter, and I believe this is the chapter you have all been waiting for! The best part? It's got more words than the last few chapters have! I usually try to refrain from posting my new chapters late at night in my time zone—mostly because I feel like I might screw up something in my writing—but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting. However, if the wording may seem off, I do apologize ^^;

I am so sorry that this took so long to post, but I suppose I should explain myself. So, my birthday week in April went off without a hitch, and I had a fantastic time. However, after that week, things started to go downhill. My laptop suddenly started to give me problems, and I could not access anything from it for a while, but luckily, a computer technician fixed my laptop, and I didn't need to buy a new one. Some other bad things happened in April, but I won't get into that. Another reason I haven't updated this sooner is because I have more hours at work, and I've been coming home more exhausted. I am slowly adjusting to my new schedule, but I'm hoping that this won't affect my goal of trying to finish writing CatRoN this year. I also needed a break to get my creativity back for this fanfic, so yeah, that's pretty much the gist.

Thank you to everyone who has been patient, though. I will keep on working my way through writing the next chapters. Enjoy this next chapter, and I will see you all soon!

Reviews:

STG96: Yup, it sure does!

ric castle: He sure was my friend, and yes, it does indeed! And quite possibly ;)

Fan Boy 101: Yes, they have, and thanks ^^

godzillafan1: That it has :D

Bailey Radcliff: Thank you! I'm happy to know! Oh, no, I'm sorry to hear! But I'm delighted to know that you are doing better now, and I hope you had a good recovery ^w^

Guest: Right here, and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 22

Thunder Blade and the Red Stone

The imagery in the Spinner washed away, leaving the neon green and electricity in its wake. Silence settled in the chamber, and Chris was left reeling, numbness seeping into him like sap.

So that's how I'm connected to these rats, he internally said. …How they came to Aunt Beth's favorite rosebush in the first place… It was all because of me…

Chris wasn't upset, but he didn't expect he'd have to take all this in. This all made sense, though; there was no denying it. Any of this around him was nothing to be rejected, and the rigorous part of reality was unforeseen truths.

"Mrs. Brisby, I have a gift for you," Nicodemus said in that soothing tone. "Come."

Mrs. Brisby brought her gaze to Chris's, and his only response was a shrug. Curiosity playing in her eyes, the field mouse approached Nicodemus with Chris on her tail, and it was then that they noticed a beautifully carved box nestled in the rat's lap. Nicodemus scooped it up, opened the lid on silent hinges, and went to produce something from it before sending it back to his desk with a wave of his gravitation magic.

"Jonathan meant it for you."

When Chris and Mrs. Brisby saw the object more clearly, their eyes flared wide, and Mrs. Brisby gasped in amazement. An amulet set in a gold base that looked precisely like Chris's was cradled in Nicodemus's hands. The only difference was that the stone was as red as blood.

"Chris, it looks almost like the necklace on you," Mrs. Brisby marveled, her reflection staring back at her in the pendant. "It's so beautiful."

Chris drew his amulet from the back of his sweaty, stained shirt, and he couldn't believe how similar those two necklaces were. It was like they were long-lost twins who had coincidentally come across each other.

"It sleeps," Nicodemus divulged.

"Sleeps?" Mrs. Brisby echoed.

"Yes, they both do." Nicodemus lifted his gaze to Chris when he mentioned both stones.

Chris's jaw was unhinged at that moment. Nicodemus knew what this trinket was, though it was pretty obvious, given he had an almost exact version in his warted hands… then that meant…

The tiny human doffed the necklace and quickly said, "I'm sorry, I had no idea this belonged to you. If I had known, I would've tried to return it to you sooner and never intended to steal it. I suppose you'll want this back…" He then extended it to the rat leader, shame churning in his stomach.

Nicodemus declined it with a gesture of his hand. "It is not mine. It's yours."

Chris blinked, perplexed. "What?"

The rat leader dipped his head in acknowledgment and understanding as if knowing that Chris would've said something like that. "Do you remember how you found the stone?"

"I… I do." Chris then began to tell Nicodemus his recollection of the day he found it after he wrapped up his nature photography and magically shrunk to the size of a fairy, never twisting the truth.

The rat leader and Mrs. Brisby listened patiently, never interrupting. They didn't seem surprised by all that he told them, especially Mrs. Brisby, who was there to witness what had become of Chris.

The tiny human then tilted his head after he answered the question. "Why do you ask?"

"You have seen for yourself that this is no ordinary amulet, but what you don't know is that it chose you." Nicodemus pointed at Chris for good emphasis.

Chris's brow puckered. "Chose me?" He got out. "I don't understand."

"Allow me to convey to you both about the stones." Nicodemus then swept his arm toward the Spinner, the neon green glow still present with electricity trailing and crackling through it until more imagery broke the surface, melting it all away.

"Our work in progress, especially from the ground up, on our habitation made us cast our minds back to the books we read at the manor about humans, their evolution, and their different cultures throughout the eras. Everything you have seen underground was our inspiration from not only the books but also what we had seen in real life."

The Spinner showed the rats constructing what they had pictured in their minds for their underground settlement. Everyone was working together to make everything perfect—as perfect as everything could be anyway—by using the Toy Tinker's tools and motors they now called their own. Having access to electricity and some other supplies on the Fitzgibbons' farm made their building progress a much smoother sailing, but even so, most were guilt-ridden that they were stealing once more. Would their days of stealing ever come to an end? Even though most of the rats had a guilty conscience, they kept designing what they started for what would shape up their new lives ahead of them.

"We erected almost everything you could imagine that one would need for survival, and one of the things we were proud to have made was the forges."

The device now showed a few rats smithing in the forges, busting their tails off to turn regular metal into something more, an upgrade per sey. For their safety, the metalworkers were required to adorn the attire needed: a shirt and pants made of a specific material, like cotton, wool, or leather, boots, protective gloves, safety goggles, and an apron. Furnaces were aglow with flames that were their lifeline, highlighting the rats' features and throwing shadows onto the walls, with the heat and smoke oppressive in the air. The clanging of hammers on incandescent metal reverberated off the walls, sparks flying out. In contrast, other metals were converted into molten or dipped in water barrels to cool off after some molding, making the water hiss. Forging had been life-changing for the rats.

"We made what could've been impossible for animals like us rats to have, hammers filling the deepest part of the natural cave, like ringing bells. Dishes, utensils, and decorations were carved, instruments were hollowed out for music to meld into one, weapons were sharpened to the finest point, and the most precious jewelry was molded, strung, and shone like the brightest stars."

All of these, which Nicodemus named out, appeared in the Spinner with a lot of thought and care put into them, and there was hardly a blemish to be spotted on any of them. Those books from the mansion really came in handy, and with what the rats had been injected with from NIMH, their memories proved to be very sterling. Their brains were like a library, and they could sift through and glean what retention of information they needed, like for cooking, even from the deepest recesses of their minds.

"Before the stones came to be, I recall a certain day I was in my living quarters. I was meditating—something I've done for a very long time when I first read about it in a few books—and something serendipitous happened as I was doing that. Something I thought couldn't have possibly been plausible."

In the middle of the device, it shifted to a bit younger-looking Nicodemus, who was sitting crossed-legged on a beautifully red and gold woven rug, head aligned with his perpendicular spine, hands resting on his lap, eyes shut and slowly breathing in the air before releasing it as his pulse kept at a steady rhythm. His mind was calm and clear as a river that hadn't been touched by anything in a while, and nothing at that point could shatter his inner peace. However, what he least expected was soon about to happen.

Nicodemus sank deep into his mind, into the depths of tranquility… and then it happened. He felt lighter and freer, almost as if his fur, flesh, and bones—his whole body really—had expired, and it was like they had been anchoring him from something he was meant to do.

His mind had opened, and his soul was floating in the unknown.

"I found myself outside my body."

Nicodemus darted his gaze around him. It was the most uncanny, albeit remarkable place he had ever been to. Billions of stars were scattered around him as if someone had spilled glitter, and bright, glowing colors of blue, purple, pink, and orange were meshed, whirling like the Milky Way. Particles of gold veined the space, flowing with such movement and grace that it seemed like it was alive, almost breathing, perhaps. Nicodemus thought he smelled alcohol and honey, only to realize it was wafting from the tiny gold fragments. What was this? Whatever it was, he never once felt consternation.

Rather, he was left in awe and felt as though he was meant to be here to fulfill a purpose.

"It was as if I had left Earth as I was now in something otherworldly, something rare for one to reach, and when I feasted my eyes on all of it, I felt as though I was lulled in a warm embrace. Many emotions were concocting within me, and it was all so much to take in… and then, I heard whispering. It didn't take me long, though, to discover where the source of it was coming from: the gold flecks."

Nicodemus's ears flicked forward. At first, he thought that it had been the wind, but there was no wind out here. He strained his ears to hear better and soon began to hear incoherent mystical whispers. Where was it coming from? Suddenly, Nicodemus thought of something.

The gold specks.

He brought his ear closer to them, and sure enough, he could hear those whispers up close but still could not make out what was being said. How peculiar. Nicodemus could almost feel a strong thrum coming from them as if they were beckoning him to come closer.

"I felt like I was being pulled toward them but did not resist. Instead, I allowed it, even when I knew something was bound to happen, and sure enough, I was right. It was no ordinary flecks. It was, in fact, magic, and the moment I touched them, I could feel it entering my body."

Nicodemus reached out toward the particles, and the thrumming increased madly like percussions the closer his hand got. Time seemed to have slowed down, but nothing would stop the rat at that moment. It was his calling, no one else's. Whatever happened next, he'd accept his fate with welcoming arms.

Nicodemus's fingers soon made contact with the abnormal golden dust, and he let out a silent gasp. A golden light filtered through, its rays glaring and fulgurating like a beautiful sunrise over an ocean. Before Nicodemus knew what was coming, the golden beams absorbed into him. They soared through his blood, veins, and DNA, beginning to alter him and converting him into something new. Everything inside him was soon lucent.

He had his eyes closed the entire time, but upon opening them, they were anew when he saw that he was back in his chamber. No longer did they look like normal eyes. They were now basically lit orbs devoid of any pupils.

Nicodemus felt so much different.

A tingling, potent warmth spread through his body, as if he had drunk a cup of sweet coffee with a dash of liquor. It was enthralling, and he felt powerful in a way, but not as powerful as a deity. Nicodemus also felt as though he was reborn, perhaps more wiser. He soon grasped that he had actual powers, like in those fantasy novels he'd read. This was a lot for him to digest… but something the rat didn't fear. If anything, he was up to try out what he now retained.

"When I obtained my magic, I practiced in my spare time, evoking all the information from the books at the manor on magic from the back of my mind. At first, my magic-wielding was rather shoddy, but as time passed, I soon found my tempo. I had telekinesis, could see the future—but only to an extent—and other psychic abilities. With my meditation combined with the injection, it mingled to slowly engender my abilities that had been stowed away for a long time until they were ready to crop up."

Nicodemus was struggling to control his magic at first—barely levitating objects off the ground within an inch, hitting a wall when trying to see the past, present, and future in the Spinner, etc.—but with the days coming and going, he was soon mastering his abilities as easily as a snap of the fingers. He could now command an object to gravitate towards him, peek into the past, present, and future, and so much more he couldn't do before with his psychic powers. Nicodemus had learned and grown, making him such a wise soul, and that was one of the reasons he was appointed the leader of the rats.

"During the trial and error of my magic usage, seeds of ideas were planted in my mind's eye. I was the only one who could command such magic, but if I could have it, surely others could have such powers, too. Thus began my journey of creating the impossible."

The rat leader was sitting at his desk with a sketchbook wide open in his living quarters, his single candle lit, flickering, illuminating his face's angular planes. He was sketching out possible designs for what he had in mind, thoroughly detailed and labeled, and each stroke of his pencil bled out his golden magic onto the paper, making the sketch lines shed a glow for a few seconds before shifting to graphite. He would save for later what ideas he thought would work, but those he thought wouldn't were scratched out, or he would backtrack and do a little erasing. Either way, his motives were for the more significant cause.

For an achievable future.

"When I was sure my powers and I found a truce, I had a few rats help me with what I had in mind; I even had assistance from Jonathan, Justin, Arthur, and Mr. Ages."

Nicodemus was in the library with Jonathan, Justin, Arthur, Mr. Ages, and a few other rats, discussing his sketches as they studied them attentively. This was a very private matter, and the information in the wrong hands could lead to something disastrous. The few rats and two mice were very impressed with what Nicodemus had to show them, and they did not hesitate to give out their thoughts. Some things could go right and wrong, but all they could do was try and not let failure stand in their way. If they could escape NIMH, read words, sentences, and paragraphs, live in a manor for a while scot-free, etc., surely they could take on this challenge, too.

"Days dragged on, and a few of my ideas didn't succeed, but a few did, like the stones. The red and blue stones were mined from our mining area, and after polishing off the stone dust layering them, they were ravishing to behold—something anyone would rejoice in getting their hands on. They were sent to the forges for an upgrade, and there they were fashioned into amulets with special regard."

One of the rat blacksmiths was entrusted with the red and blue stones, and he did not disappoint. With enough cuts, shaping, sizing, hammering, polishing, and grafting, he soon turned up with two perfectly forged pendants. There was just one final touch to add, and that was where Nicodemus came in.

"As soon as they were complete, I transferred some of my magic into them, and that was the day they were born into magical amulets."

The blacksmith kneeled and proffered to Nicodemus in the forges the necklaces in an ornate box, and they were snug on a red cushion and were about as presentable as a king and queen would be in a throne room. Jonathan, Justin, Mr. Ages, Arthur, and the other rats that had been succoring the rat leader with his designs were there to have a look for themselves as well, and they were all pleased with the blacksmith's results, chiefly Nicodemus as his head slanted downwards slightly.

The rat leader extended his hand towards the jewelry, and they hovered in the air like invisible strings were attached to them. Golden magic leaked out of Nicodemus's fingertips and rivered themselves into the stones, and right as they did, the chains began surging with it, the pendants bursting out rays of red and blue lights that coalesced with the gold magic. Everyone, excluding Nicodemus, had to shield their eyes from the intensity of the radiance filling the space, and a wild wind stirred and howled in the room. The atmosphere was tense with anticipation, and everyone thought they heard the pendants beating like a heart vehemently with life, and the pace grew faster and faster…

And then all was engulfed in white.

Silence ensued. Technically, that wasn't true since there were those breathing in and out, and everyone's ears were ringing. No one dared move or speak, though. They remained still, their hearts thumping frantically in their chests.

Little by little, the white light was banished from everyone's sights… and the amulets were still suspended in the air, now blooming with life, indicated by what seemed like pulses in the middle of the pendants. The process was complete; in other words, this project of Nicodemus's worked.

"They were no longer mundane stones, nor were they toys to be played with. There are those out there who are as greedy as vultures and could even go as far as to abuse such power if they have it at their fingertips. Right then and there, I knew that the amulets couldn't go to just someone, as placing them in the hands of hearts filled with greed would be the undoing of this world. Magic is about as unpredictable as the weather. If used correctly, good things could come of it, but if used the wrong way… well, I dare not even think of the consequences."

Nicodemus and the others were gathered in a small meeting room, seated at a rectangular table, trying to figure out what to do with the necklaces. Word had somehow gotten out quickly about them, even when it was kept under wraps, and the group knew that they had to tread carefully. As it stood, they were on a razor's edge. What could they possibly do?

Then, a hand slowly rose—Jonathan's. Everyone directed their attention to him, and in his eyes, it was apparent that he had an idea in mind.

"Jonathan volunteered to take ownership of one of the stones, not for his personal gain, but rather in hopes that it would help that our whereabouts remained a secret, especially from NIMH, and that our world did not implode. I trusted him enough that seeing into the future was expendable. After all, he not only was the reason we managed to get through the final obstacle to escape NIMH but was also a dear friend one could rely on and wouldn't backstab you."

After Jonathan's words left his lips, everyone flicked their gazes at one another, mulling over what he said. His words were very vindicated, and no one had any reason not to trust him. He was basically the reason the remaining survivors from NIMH were here to this day, and the proof was in the pudding. Without him, there was no telling what would've become of everyone. His heart had always been in the right place, including as of now.

Everyone—excluding Jonathan, of course—took a vote, and all hands were shown in favor of Jonathan owning one of the amulets, which was no surprise, given all that he had done for everyone. There was only one thing left to do.

"Naturally, it was granted for Jonathan to have one of the stones, and paperwork was written up for him to sign to certify that the red stone—which everyone agreed was the one he should have—was now entitled to him and me, Justin, Mrs. Ages, Arthur, and a few others were there as witnesses and for me to sign it to be verified."

Paperwork was drawn up and laid in front of Jonathan, along with a quill in an inkwell. Eyes were on him, observing, and with a practiced purpose, he plucked out the quill, tapping the tip against the rim a couple of times before he proceeded to write his signature where he needed to sign, which did not take long. After Jonathan did that, the paperwork was slid to Nicodemus, and he also wrote his signature where it was needed—glowing golden and then dimming to graphite.

"The transfer had been completed, and the red amulet had been in his care since then, but if something were to happen to him, the red stone would be given to the next guardian, and that guardian is now you, Mrs. Brisby. As for the blue stone, it had other plans in mind."

The Spinner showcased the blue pendant safely hidden away in a box when suddenly it began to shine bright blue. It was to the point that the necklace was now encompassed in it, barely seen. The light pulsated and slanted out of the box's lips… and then, as fast as it came, it vanished along with the amulet.

"The red stone was willing to be given to anyone as if knowing the right decision would be made, but as for the blue stone, it was as though it already had someone in mind."

The blue amulet materialized in some blades of grass, gleaming. Moments later, a human shadow spilled across it, and the owner of it just so happened to have belonged to Chris as he gazed upon the necklace in wonder.

"And that someone just happened to be you, Mr. Fitzgibbons."

Air whooshed out of Chris and Mrs. Brisby. There was so much to soak in, especially given the fact that it wasn't that Chris randomly came across the necklace a few days ago. It came to him. But why?

As if sensing Chris's question, Nicodemus blazed on, his attention remaining on the tiny human and field mouse. "When worn by one with a courageous heart, the stones glow blue and red. They become a blinding radiance. Courage of the heart is very rare. The stones have a power when it's there, but when two courageous hearts are combined, they can make a big difference."

Chris turned over Nicodemus's words in his head, and from the edge of his peripheral vision, his friend seemed to be doing the same thing. This made him think back to when Dragon attacked him, Mrs. Brisby, and Jeremy… to the moment when the blue amulet's powers saved Mrs. Brisby from likely drowning, resulting in his hands burning to a certain degree like he accidentally touched a metal pot that was boiling. That all happened because he apparently had courage in his heart?

"So… the blue stone chose me because of the courage in my heart?" Chris was able to say. "But why me, of all people? And why would it shrink me and not reverse it?" He flourished his hands over his body for added emphasis.

"The amulet was likely aware of what you did for me and my search party," Nicodemus placidly explained, "thus wanting to make itself known to you. As for why it shrunk you, I believe that it's testing you."

Chris's brows knitted. "Testing me?"

"To see if your heart is still as good as it was back then and if you truly are worthy enough to keep it. One with a good heart is able to withstand selfishness and greed, to never let that influence you."

All the tiny human could do was blink, along with Mrs. Brisby. An amulet testing him? Well, that was definitely something Chris never would've imagined happening in his life… but here he was now, shrunk and needing to pass a test. But for how long exactly? And would he ever grow back to his original size? Only time will tell.

"Look," Mrs. Brisby suddenly spoke up, noticing something on the back of the gold base of the necklace that still swung from Nicodemus's fingers, "an inscription."

The field mouse gently took hold of the pendant, squinting her eyes to see what was engraved. Chris went to look for himself and easily made out the following words, which were different from the ones on the back of the gold base of his stone:

YOU CAN UNLOCK ANY DOOR, IF YOU ONLY HAVE THE KEY.

Mrs. Brisby slowly read the words aloud, and a soft smile formed on her lips after she did. A grateful sigh left her as Nicodemus placed the amulet around her neck, and she hugged it against her chest as if Jonathan's soul were in it. "Oh, thank you. I will treasure it always."

Nicodemus bowed his head briefly, and then his eyes were on Chris. "I have something for you, too," he informed the tiny human, raising his hand. Within seconds, something was effortlessly gliding through the air towards it. "It just so happens to have been created the same way the stones were."

The rat leader then had a firm grip on the object, and when he did, Chris perceived what it was: a sword with the sheath embracing the blade part. Nicodemus held it out to him. Chris ping-ponged his gaze between it and Mrs. Brisby, but he eventually picked his way toward it. At first, he was hesitant, but with Nicodemus's silent encouragement, he collected it, accepting the offering. It wasn't heavy, but it wasn't light either. The sheath felt very smooth, though.

Chris wrapped his fingers around the handle and near the end of the sheath and then started to unshed the blade. Something glared in his eyes at that moment, and he had to shut them for a heartbeat or two. However, he then began to comprehend that it was a blue light… and it was coming from the sword. His eyes bulged, and the tiny human soon drew out a brightly lit blue weapon, and his jaw dropped, as did Mrs. Brisby's. It was like if Sting and Excalibur had a baby together, and Chris was flabbergasted that he was holding such a sword.

"It is called Thunder Blade," Nicodemus proclaimed. "When it cuts through the air and clashes with another blade, it is as though it were a flash and crack of thunder."

The tiny human traced his forefinger over the blade. It was smoother than the sheath, almost like water, perfectly polished, sharp, and unshatterable. Amazing.

"It used to belong to Jonathan."

Upon hearing that, Chris and Mrs. Brisby were taken aback. This was once Jonathan's? Chris suddenly didn't feel right about taking something of Jonathan's. Sure, Mrs. Brisby was okay with him donning her late husband's purple shirt, but possessing Thunder Blade? He was hit with an overwhelming wave, and he thought that he might drown in it. He couldn't possibly accept it; this was too much.

Chris sheathed the blade. "I couldn't," he truthfully said. "I don't deserve it…"

"Chris…" Mrs. Brisby began to say, but the tiny human pressed on.

"I may have coincidentally saved you and your search party, but I can't accept this gift, let alone something that once belonged to Jonathan. I'm no hero. I'm just an ordinary guy who does photography for his career."

Chris expected a disappointed look to reach Nicodemus's face, but there was nothing of that sort. His face remained composed, even as he spoke. "Jonathan also said something along those lines when Thunder Blade was bestowed upon him."

The tiny human's eyebrows shot upward. "He did?"

"He did?" Mrs. Brisby reiterated, her face as dumbfounded as her friend's.

"He did," Nicodemus confirmed. He then instructed them to gaze back at the Spinner, and more imagery began popping up.

"I wanted to show my appreciation for all Jonathan did for us, and so I sketched up the Thunder Blade and had the same blacksmith that forged the stones to work his magic on what I had in mind."

Nicodemus handed over his sketch of Thunder Blade to the blacksmith in the forges, and after he pored over it, the blacksmith nodded to his leader, ready to take on the challenge.

"Like the stones, he worked his heart out on the sword and smithed exactly what I had in mind."

The blacksmith fired up his furnace and immediately got to work on bringing a sword to life, but this one would be extraordinary—much different from all the other weapons. He used the most robust metal and followed his usual process: heating it, hammering at it, breaking away the unneeded metal, cooling it in the water barrel, etc. It took him almost the whole day to get it just right, but it had all been worth it in the end, as he soon came out with the best sword he could've ever had the pleasure of putting all his energy on.

"All that was left was the final element to complete Thunder Blade."

The blacksmith stood before his leader and sank to his knee, delivering what he had promised and in his hands rested a magnificent blue sword that could've put the other weapons to shame, even the ones from long ago. Nicodemus withdrew the blade from the blacksmith's grasp and sized it up, running his pointer finger over it. Perfect. After admiring the sword for a few heartbeats, Nicodemus had some gold magic come forth to his fingertips. He slowly slid his hand across the smooth blade, and soon, it began to glow as blue as the blue stone when it activated. Nothing too crazy happened with the magic, like with the stones, but even so, the sword was now finished—the first one ever to be coursing with magic.

"As soon as Thunder Blade was ready, I summoned Jonathan to my living quarters. I knew that he wasn't keen on the idea of making anything that he did a big deal, like when he unlocked the door on the roof of NIMH and was just happy to help, but I wanted to thank him somehow, and gifting him the Thunder Blade was the token of my appreciation. He initially declined it, feeling it was too much for him, but I insisted, and he eventually caved in and accepted the gift."

Jonathan was in Nicodemus's chamber, and his eyes goggled when the rat leader outstretched the blade tucked in its sheath to him. He tried to turn it down politely, but the rat leader coaxed him to take it, and the spotted gray-brown mouse eventually did as he knelt before him with respect. He removed the blade from its sheath, with agog swirling in his eyes, and Jonathan was rendered speechless by the weapon he was now wielding after blinking away the intense blue light.

He was a worthy mouse worthy of a fine sword indeed.

The Spinner erased what was being shown until it was only neon green and zig-zagging electricity. Chris didn't know what to say, and he and Mrs. Brisby could only skate their gazes at each other.

"You see, Mr. Fitzgibbons," Nicodemus continued, "it is not about whether or not you are a hero, but rather the little things you put into the world. The goodness you give always has a way of returning to you like a boomerang. Take a good look at your memories of the times you helped someone and did something out of the kindness of your heart. You didn't do all that because you wanted to be a prideful hero; you did those things because you knew it was right. People like you are the reason the world is not so cruel."

Chris did as Nicodemus told him, and he flipped through his memories like pictures from a photo album. Most of them were of times when he did a good deed, even if it was a tiny thing. He could name many instances where he did those such things, like helping to clean, picking up dropped items, answering a question… helping Mrs. Brisby—his heart fluttered when he thought of her. His eyes rounded with realization, and Nicodemus couldn't have been more right.

The tiny human's green eyes fell on Thunder Blade, his new sword. His index finger once more trailed over the blade—after extracting it from the sheath again, of course—but his gaze then caught something. An inscription. Chris read the following words:

MAY YOUR HEART BE AS MIGHTY AS THIS SWORD.

Chris said those words out loud for Mrs. Brisby and Nicodemus to hear, and he felt a weak smile break across his face, his chest puffed up with self-assurance. Right then and there, he promised himself that he would never take Thunder Blade for granted and that it would be his way of honoring Mrs. Brisby's late husband.

He found Nicodemus's eyes and said, "I will take good care of Thunder Blade. Thank you."

"I know you will, and thank you as well," Nicodemus responded courteously and went to look down at Mrs. Brisby. "Jonathan couldn't tell you about NIMH because the injections slowed the aging process." He allowed Chris and Mrs. Brisby a moment to let that sink in before carrying on. "You see, you would've grown old while he remained young."