Poisonous vipers weave themselves amongst the countless spikes of the chamber’s ever-encroaching walls, their hissing only barely audible over the grinding of ancient stone as whatever mechanism hidden beyond the chamber does its best to marry the two separate pieces together. The only exit, a window high above, is far out of reach. A bright beam of light shines through, highlighting the skull-strewn floor and glimmering off the vipers’ white fangs. Salvation is seemingly so close... but let’s face it, considering how things have gone so far, the window’s probably booby trapped too.

Any way you slice it, (Now’s not the time for that phrase!) this isn’t looking good. You can’t see a way out of this, so with bated breath, you turn the page...

Damn, looks like Daring Do has her work cut out for her this time!

“Anon?”

Ah, there it is.

You smile and close the book as you turn toward the familiar voice of your silly horse. She lies next to you on the simple bed of your little Ponyville cottage, curled atop the sheets, her royal regalia discarded upon the nearby dresser. It looks as if her own book was long since completely abandoned as it’s been brushed off away from her, now closer to your feet than her eyes. Instead, the magenta orbs capture only you as they reflect the bedroom’s soft light, an obvious question burning within them.

With a chuckle, you place your Daring Do novel aside. “Yeah, Cel? Something on your mind?”

You already know the answer to that based on the way she was fidgeting and stealing glances at you during your reading earlier. She probably thought you didn’t notice, but signs like this have been very easy to spot the more time you’ve spent with her. This behavior, ears turned forward, her expression a mix of trepidation and anticipation, and the slight but constant wiggling of her forehooves, means that a question is coming that you probably don’t want to answer. That it would happen was a certainty; it was only a matter of when.

She moves to speak, but stops before any words escape. With a pensive look, she glances down and ponders for a few moments before finally managing to find her voice.

“Anon, if you were to write a book about all of our shared experiences together, what genre would it be? Science Fiction or Fantasy?”

What?

Your mind goes blank. To say that this wasn’t what you were expecting is a given, but still...

“Where did this come from?”

“That’s not an answer, Anon,” she huffs. “If you need time to think about it that’s fine, but I’d like to know.”

And suddenly you get the feeling that there’s more to this than meets the eye, and if you answer this seemingly innocuous question wrong you’re in trouble. Thankfully, your dealings with your exes back on Earth have somewhat prepared you for this kind of thing, but it never gets easier. All you can really do is try to uncover as much information as you can and hope it leads you to the correct choice.

“...Does this have something to do with Twilight?” you ask. Her lips turn up in a barely-perceptible smile and her ears fold back ever-so-slightly. Bingo. You can’t help but chuckle again at the sight. “Come on, spill it.”

“Well, during our lesson today, she began talking about how everything that happened would likely one day be adapted into the form of a book, or perhaps a film should a daring director attempt it. The names, characters, locations, and some events would be changed, of course, so as to bill the production as fiction, and I can’t say I find that too surprising. But what really struck me as odd was that she insisted it would be categorized as science fiction!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Science fiction? Really?”

She nods. “Yes. I had the same reaction as you; I was ready to dismiss it, but her impassioned defense of the idea along with my admitted unfamiliarity with modern works in both genres gave me a bit of pause in simply rejecting it outright. The whole conversation has been lingering in the back of my mind all day; I couldn’t even concentrate on my reading or my work! As one who was there along with me throughout the entire ordeal, I’d like to know your thoughts.”

You lean back, tapping your chin in thought.

“Hmmm. Well, we did spend a fair bit of time running around the ruins of an advanced ancient civilization that was able to produce a bunch of shit that worked on a mix of vaguely defined magic and technology. Hell, we even had to face down a gigantic ship built around that stuff. I suppose that’s kind of science-fictioney.”

Celestia rolls her eyes. “Anon... from your perspective, many aspects of this world, both in the realm of magic and technology, are ‘vaguely defined’. Though they’re becoming less so as you learn more and more with time, I don’t really think that counts.”

You lean forward and reach a hand into her ethereal mane to pinch one of her ears. She jumps and squeals with delight at the sudden motion, but quickly leans into your touch as you begin to scratch her favorite spot.

“Touché. Yeah, I guess all things considered, it’d probably be a fantasy novel. It sure seems like a fantasy to me... some of the stuff that happened to us was completely ridiculous.”

She sighs, a soft smile playing across her lips.

“Yes, much of it was indeed fantastic. Had I not lived it, perhaps I’d have said the same thing. But life is full of many surprises, my human... some of which defy all imagining to ultimately bring about joys and fond memories that shine brighter than the brightest gold.”

Your hand finds its way to her cheek, lightly caressing her muzzle as your eyes meet yet again, the feeling never fading.

“Yeah... that’s definitely true.”

Her lips find your own as she closes the distance between you, and two books fall from the bed to the floor, their presence forgotten.