Aden moved to the door but narrowed his eyes. After teleporting him all the way to Cyrodiil, was she really going to let him walk away that easily? The answer was a resounding no. As soon as he stepped through the door he was most certainly not outside. He had seen sunlight and the city of Bruma through the windows, but now he was somewhere else. Somewhere cold, dark, and damp. He turned around and saw the all too familiar door, firmly shut. "I should have known. Mother's loving embrace never did loosen easily."
He walked along a small passageway, stepping down the stairs it flared out into an open cavern with five tunnels fanning out. He looked above the tunnels and noticed there were carvings in the stones above them. The writing was instantly recognizable. The garden caught his eye, as did the pantry, but followed the garden path until it opened up into a medium sized cavern. It seemed to be made from natural rock yet not carved from any mortal's hands. I know who carved this cavern, it's etched into the very earth. The signature so familiar and almost...comforting, but he quickly shook off these feelings. The sound of running water drew Aden further in though his mind screamed to leave, his very being drove him further in. He moved to the far end of the cavern and discovered a small rivulet running through, disappearing under the rock nearby. Along the banks of the stream were beds of rich dark soil just waiting for seeds to be sewn. Tiny rays of sunlight shone down from cracks in the rock above.
He remembered his garden and couldn't help but smile. It had been so long, but he remembered everything. The smells, the creations he made, and the quiet. He walked the river and bent down after noticing a small bud. It was small but he recognized it as Nightshade. It seemed this Sanctuary hadn't seen so much activity in some time, yet it was waking up to welcome the rebirth of the Brotherhood. I could get Ragath to bring me some Bloodgrass from the manor. That could be nice. And there is a lot I could make with tha-
"No!" He stood up and shook his head again. It was tempting, easy, to fall back into that life. He admitted to himself that he had enjoyed it but there was too much bad blood now; his and theirs. His was just slightly more demonic. He sighed heavily and for some reason, kept walking deeper into the gloomy Sanctuary and eventually made his way to the kitchen. He suddenly had a flashback of being surrounded by a group of familiar faces, all laughing or arguing while they waited for Aden to serve the food. He remembered the jokes about the poison master making the food.
"Maybe...maybe I do miss it. A little." He rummaged around the kitchen noting the rock-like meat and the rotten fruit. He started cleaning. He wasn't sure why but it just felt like he should; familiar. It also stopped him from cursing the one who brought him here. As much as he didn't want to be here, he didn't want to piss her off lest she send him to somewhere less pleasant next. He didn't want to be here...right? He disposed of all the rotten food, dead rodents, and dusted a bit. He placed his rapier on top of the large table as he worked. He gathered the dishes. "Pitiful. I'll need to get better supplies. I wouldn't serve a Scamp off these dishes. I'll make a list; silverware, pots, pans, plates, goblets. No cups. We're the Brotherhood, not fl*ffing peasants. Might even bring my good stuff from the manor. I can always get more and my ebony dishes with Daedric cravings always impress."
He stopped and spoke quietly to himself, "I'm going to stay...aren't I...Mother? These memories...these feelings. Those are the reasons, huh?"