A Choose Your Own Adventure Short Story
Author Note:
I grew up absolutely obsessed with those old Choose Your Own Adventure books.
The fantasy ones. The sci-fi ones. The weird ones where you somehow died because you opened the wrong door on page 42. I had stacks of them scattered around my room as a kid, with folded page corners marking all the endings I hadn’t survived yet.
Honestly, they were probably my first real introduction to fantasy and sci-fi “novels,” if you can call them novels. They felt bigger than regular books to me because you got to participate in the disaster directly. You weren’t just reading about someone making terrible decisions. You were making the terrible decisions.
And somehow every choice felt incredibly serious when you were ten.
Do you climb into the alien cave?
Do you trust the wizard?
Do you touch the glowing crystal that is very obviously cursed?
Naturally: yes.
So I decided to write a small love letter (parody?) to those gloriously chaotic adventure books. This one has moon fragments, cursed horses, deeply questionable survival strategies, and at least one horse that has almost certainly committed multiple crimes.
Choose wisely.
Or at least choose entertainingly.
Moonfall Caravan
The moon fell three months ago.
Not all of it, obviously. Most of it remained in the sky where moons traditionally belong. But a very important piece broke off during the Long Eclipse and smashed directly into the Kingdom of Talrein, poisoning rivers, mutating livestock, and making ordinary household objects mildly vindictive.
Your spoon tried to kill you yesterday. Not aggressively. It simply leapt from your stew and attempted to lodge itself in your throat with what you felt was unnecessary enthusiasm.
Since then, things have become worse.
The caravan creaks westward through dead grass beneath a pale green sky. Six wagons remain out of the original twenty-three. Nobody sings anymore. The horses startle at shadows. Children cry in their sleep. Nobody tells stories around the fire except Old Brenner, who keeps insisting the moon is “hatching.”
You sincerely hope he is wrong.
A bell rings somewhere ahead. The lead wagon stops so suddenly that everyone behind it nearly collides in a chain of curses and snapping reins.
“We should keep moving,” Captain Vale says immediately.
“We should absolutely not keep moving,” replies the caravan cook, who has not slept in two days and currently smells like onions and despair.
“We are all going to die regardless,” Old Brenner adds helpfully.
You climb down from the supply wagon and peer through the fog. At first you mistake the shape ahead for a ruined fortress. Then green lightning flashes across the clouds, revealing towering stone arches, shattered battlements, and enormous bronze doors hanging open in the hillside.
An imperial stable.
Captain Vale swears under her breath. “Impossible,” she murmurs. “This place was buried centuries ago.”
The cook makes a sign of the cross immediately.
That seems wise.
A cold wind drifts from the stable entrance carrying the smell of wet stone, old leather, and something ancient enough to remember insults. Then comes the sound of hoofbeats echoing from deep inside the dark.
The caravan enters cautiously. Lanterns flicker to life one by one overhead despite nobody touching them, which everyone agrees silently is an extremely bad sign. Rows of ancient stalls stretch away into darkness beneath faded banners bearing the crest of the old moon emperors. Most of the stalls stand empty.
Five do not.
The horses watch the caravan without moving. A black stallion stands at the far end of the aisle, tall and theatrical enough to probably summon thunderstorms on purpose. Beside him paces a tiny shaggy pony with one torn ear and the expression of a man banned from multiple taverns. An enormous gray warhorse stands perfectly still beneath rusted armor, regarding everyone with deep disappointment. In the fourth stall, a white mare lowers her elegant head as pale light shimmers faintly beneath her skin. The final horse barely seems solid at all. Its outline blurs at the edges like smoke in moonlight, and when it smiles at you, there are far too many teeth involved.
Old Brenner stares at them for a long moment. “Well,” he says finally, “those are absolutely cursed.”
He is probably correct.
Captain Vale turns toward you. “You’re the lightest rider.”
“That is an incredibly insulting way to volunteer me.”
“You also lost at dice yesterday.”
“That feels unrelated.”
“It is not.”
Before you can continue arguing, a distant howl echoes from outside the stable. The moon wolves have found the caravan.
Wonderful.
Captain Vale draws her sword. “You have a few minutes,” she says. “Find supplies. Find another exit. Find literally anything useful.”
You tighten your grip on the lantern and head deeper into the stable.
If you investigate the upper balconies where something large is moving overhead, turn to PAGE 14.
If you search the abandoned tack room for supplies and weapons, turn to PAGE 22.
If you follow the strange glowing hoofprints descending beneath the stable, turn to PAGE 31.
PAGE 14
The upper balconies sag beneath your weight as you climb. Dust drifts through narrow beams of green moonlight, and somewhere ahead, something breathes slowly in the dark.
You raise the lantern.
A skeleton in rusted ceremonial armor sits slumped in a wooden chair beside the railing. An enormous ledger rests open across its knees. For one terrible second you freeze. Then the skeleton slowly lifts one finger and points toward the horse stalls below.
You scream a little.
The skeleton continues pointing patiently.
“That was embarrassing for both of us,” you admit after a moment.
Inside the ledger, every horse has notes written beside its name in faded ink. Most of the entries are alarming. One simply reads:
DO NOT ALLOW THE FAE ONE TO LEARN LOCKS AGAIN.
Another reads:
THE SMALL ONE MUST NEVER BE LEFT UNSUPERVISED NEAR FIRE.
You decide not to continue reading.
As you back toward the stairs, the skeleton gives you a slow thumbs-up. You are not emotionally prepared for that.
Turn to PAGE 40.
PAGE 22
The tack room smells strongly of mildew and old straw. Most of the equipment has rotted away centuries ago, but after digging through a collapsed cabinet you manage to uncover three useful items: a silver knife, a bag of dried apples, and a crossbow that immediately falls apart in your hands.
“Excellent craftsmanship,” you mutter.
Something snorts behind you.
You turn slowly. A tiny shaggy pony stares through a half-open stall door with unsettling focus. One of its ears is missing, and its eyes hold the deeply concerning confidence of a creature that has escaped consequences many times before.
“Absolutely not,” you whisper.
The pony stretches its neck through the doorway, snatches the silver knife directly from your hand, and swallows it.
Somewhere outside, the wolves howl again.
The pony burps.
Turn to PAGE 40.
PAGE 31
The glowing hoofprints lead downward beneath the stable through narrow stone tunnels flooded ankle-deep with pale blue water. Strange symbols glimmer along the walls, pulsing faintly whenever thunder rolls overhead.
At the bottom of the passage you discover an underground shrine surrounding a black pool. Five enormous stone carvings stand in a circle around the water, each depicting one of the horses above. Their eyes seem almost alive in the shifting blue light.
Someone has scratched a warning into the floor.
ALL ROADS ARE BAD.
CHOOSE THE ROAD THAT IS BAD FOR OTHER PEOPLE.
You consider this for a moment.
“Honestly,” you admit aloud, “that feels like surprisingly practical advice.”
Something massive shifts beneath the water.
You leave immediately.
Turn to PAGE 40.
PAGE 40
By the time you return, the moon wolves are already inside the stable.
They move wrong. Their bodies bend and twist beneath their fur as though their bones cannot agree on a final shape. One crawls along the ceiling before dropping directly onto a wagon horse. People scream. Captain Vale fights near the entrance while Old Brenner attempts to bless terrified civilians using a soup ladle.
It does not appear especially effective.
Amid the chaos, the five horses remain perfectly calm.
The black stallion paws the stone floor dramatically while smoke curls around his hooves. The tiny feral pony has somehow acquired a lantern and is threatening someone with it. The ancient warhorse watches the battle with exhausted resignation. The white mare stands motionless beneath the flickering lantern light, her silver mane untouched by dust or blood. The fae horse bites a moon wolf directly on the face for reasons known only to itself.
You realize suddenly that everyone is looking at you.
Captain Vale avoids a wolf’s claws and shouts, “Choose a horse before we all die!”
Fair enough.
Pick your survival strategy.
The Dramatic Black Stallion (Turn to PAGE 57)
Will only allow one person to ride him.
The Tiny Feral Pony (Turn to PAGE 62)
Looks harmless. Has committed crimes.
The Ancient Warhorse (Turn to PAGE 66)
Has seen things. Judges everyone silently.
The Beautiful White Mare (Turn to PAGE 71)
Probably magical. Probably cursed. Definitely smarter than the entire cast. May or may not be a unicorn.
The Fae Horse (Turn to PAGE 83)
May technically belong to another realm and absolutely bites people for fun. Also may or may not be a unicorn.
If You Choose The Dramatic Black Stallion (PAGE 57)
The stallion allows Captain Vale onto his back immediately.
Not you.
Never you.
The moment you touch the saddle, the horse launches you backward into a hay bale with incredible precision and what feels like personal irritation. Captain Vale barely manages to grab the reins before the stallion explodes through the stable doors in a swirl of black smoke and flying sparks.
The moon wolves chase after them instantly.
The rest of the caravan survives. Songs are eventually written about Captain Vale and her legendary midnight horse riding into the burning west beneath the shattered moon.
You are mentioned briefly in one verse as “another person nearby.”
THE END (Go to Author End Note PAGE 100)
If You Choose The Tiny Feral Pony (PAGE 62)
The pony allows you to climb onto its back without protest.
This is your first warning.
The second warning comes when it bites a moon wolf directly on the throat. The third comes moments later when it kicks over a support pillar while carrying you screaming through the stable at catastrophic speed.
The ceiling collapses behind you in an avalanche of stone and fire as the tiny pony gallops into the night like an outlaw fleeing several unrelated crimes.
By dawn, you discover three important things.
The pony can open doors.
The pony is apparently wanted in at least two kingdoms.
And the pony has somehow stolen the crown jewels.
You survive comfortably for many years as unwilling accomplice to a horse bandit.
THE END (Go to Author End Note PAGE 100)
If You Choose The Ancient Warhorse (PAGE 66)
The old warhorse kneels stiffly so you can climb aboard. His scarred ears twitch at the sounds of battle echoing behind you. Then, with deep exhaustion, he sighs.
Not a horse sound.
A genuinely tired sigh.
He carries you calmly through the wolves as though none of this is remotely unusual. Moonlight bends strangely around him as he travels, and the cold night air slowly fills with the smell of rain and battlefield smoke.
Hours later, you arrive at an enormous plain littered with rusted armor and broken banners. Thousands of shadowy figures begin rising silently from the earth around you.
The warhorse glances back with an expression that clearly says: “See? This is why I have trust issues.”
One by one, the dead soldiers kneel before you.
Apparently you are their commander now.
This seems like an unreasonable amount of responsibility.
THE END (Go to Author End Note PAGE 100)
If You Choose The Beautiful White Mare (PAGE 71)
The mare watches you approach with unsettling intelligence.
“You’re a unicorn,” you whisper.
The mare stares silently at you for several long seconds.
“That’s fair,” you admit. “I probably deserve that.”
She carries you effortlessly through the chaos while moon wolves scatter from her glowing hooves. By sunrise, you reach the western cliffs overlooking the sea. Far below, silver waves crash beneath the fractured moonlight.
Then the mare calmly walks off the edge of the cliff.
You have just enough time to panic before realizing she is not falling.
An enormous hidden city shimmers beneath the water, glowing with pale golden light. Towers rise beneath the sea like drowned stars.
The mare turns her head slightly as if asking whether you intend to keep screaming.
Far above, Talrein burns.
Far below, something ancient opens its eyes.
THE END (Go to Author End Note PAGE 100)
If You Choose The Fae Horse (PAGE 83)
The fae horse bites you immediately.
Hard.
Then it allows you to climb aboard, which somehow feels insulting.
The world twists the moment you cross the stable threshold. Trees stretch into towers. Rivers flow backward through the sky. Stars drift beneath your feet while impossible music echoes through glowing forests filled with creatures that absolutely should not have teeth.
Eventually the horse stops beside a crystal river beneath a sky full of unfamiliar constellations. A crowd dressed in silver waits there watching you with polite interest.
One of them smiles.
“Wonderful,” she says. “The human has finally arrived.”
“You were expecting me?” you ask.
She studies the stars for a moment. “In your world? Perhaps for three hundred years.”
You turn slowly toward the horse.
The horse looks deeply pleased with itself.
THE END (Go to Author End Note PAGE 100)
Author End Note (PAGE 100):
All right. Important question: Which horse did you choose?
And more importantly: why did you trust it?
I’m curious how it played out for you — whether you went with something noble, something chaotic, or something that immediately tried to ruin your life in an interesting way. Personally, I would absolutely make eye contact with the tiny feral pony and decide, “Yes. That one. That seems survivable.”
Anyway, let me know your choice — and whether your survival instincts are guided by logic, bad decisions, or pure fantasy protagonist energy. Seriously though, comments let me know you enjoyed this post so I can write more like it.
Also, if you chose the Fae Horse (or even if you didn’t) you might want to check out The Horse and the Thief and Me novelette that was just released today.
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