Title: Finding Something Strange and Wonderful in Blackmist (My Best Friend is an Eldritch Horror #1) by A.B. Feather
Have you ever picked up a book that struck you as oddly delightful, even if it didn’t quite add up? That’s precisely the experience I had with Blackmist (My Best Friend is an Eldritch Horror #1) by A.B. Feather. When I read the premise, I was instantly intrigued: a thirteen-year-old boy named Damien summons an Eldritch Horror named “Henry” with an astonishing power, while navigating the quirks of a magic school. With a title like that, I couldn’t resist diving in!
From the start, Blackmist leads us down an intricate, chaotic alley splattered with fantasy-horror tropes. The fact that Damien names himself after the infamous Anti-Christ while befriending a demon named “Henry” (which sounds more like a friendly neighbor than a world-ending entity) sets the tone for the unpredictable journey ahead. The themes surrounding magic, adolescence, and the struggle between destiny and choice are palpable, even when the plot often feels like unheated magical water.
One aspect that struck me was the school setting, reminiscent of the classic Harry Potter series. It has the expected rivalries, dorms, and dueling. Still, it uniquely veers off into absurdity when Damien, who seems to have a weak grasp on basic magic, gets embroiled in prophetic lessons courtesy of a mega-demon in his head. It’s a strange dynamic that flirts with comedy and horror, like a bizarre coming-of-age story set against a tapestry of cosmic dread.
The pacing, however, felt a bit disjointed; one moment we’re introduced to intricate world-building and then swiftly transitioned to lazy explanations of magic systems and characters who rarely get fleshed out. For instance, Sylph, Damien’s roommate, remains largely enigmatic, leaving me itching for more background instead of leaving me in the dark. And while the questions about magic that the author raises are tantalizing, the educational aspects—like alchemy or dark magic—are hinted at but then ignored. It felt as if we were thrust into a gladiatorial competition without sufficient training.
There were moments filled with humor and wit that I genuinely appreciated, and some lines did resonate with me, provoking reflection about power dynamics and friendship—particularly between Damien and Henry. The bond they share, however contradictory it may be, raises intriguing questions about morality in the face of absolute power.
In conclusion, I’d recommend Blackmist for readers who enjoy unconventional fantasy blended with horror and the absurd. It feels like a younger author leaning into their creative impulses without feeling too constrained by narrative conventions—something I can respect. For those who seek deep world-building and rich character development, it might leave you wanting more. But if you’re open to chaos and a twist on the classic magic school trope, give it a try.
On a personal note, Blackmist reminded me that stories can be fluid, messy, and sometimes nonsensical—but it is precisely those elements that make reading so delightful. Here’s to the beautiful strangeness of books that challenge our expectations!
Discover more about Blackmist (My Best Friend is an Eldritch Horror #1) on GoodReads >>