"Do you want the girl to live?"
Ares stared at his doctor, seated across from him.
He hadn't really noticed until recently how old he was getting.
To think he had been his doctor right from when he was a boy.
Now he was an adult, and still ran to him for help, all the time.
"That's why she's here. So she can live to help me," he finally replied.
"Then you need to be more careful with the kind of conditions you put her in. She's very fragile. Her body is extremely delicate. I can only work by my theories, but I don't think she had a great childhood. Such trauma isn't just going to heal in adulthood, especially when space is not given to heal. You have to stop seeing her as your prisoner, so you can stop treating her like one."
"But she's my prisoner," Ares argued.
"Then you want her dead," the doctor retorted.
"No I don't. If she's not my prisoner, then what is she?" Ares asked in a frustrated tone.