The Wise Man's Fear (The Kingkiller Chronicle, #2)

by Patrick Rothfuss

“This is an old, old piece of forest. You don’t see the blade anywhere near where folk have settled. We’re off the edge of the map here.” “We’re hardly on the edge of the map,” I said. “We know exactly where we are.” Marten snorted. “Maps don’t just have outside edges. They have inside edges. Holes. Folk like to pretend they know everything about the world. Rich folk especially. Maps are great for that. On this side of the line is Baron Taxtwice’s field, on that side is Count Uptemuny’s land.” Marten spat. “You can’t have blanks on your maps, so the folks who draw them shade in a piece and write, ‘The Eld.’” He shook his head. “You might as well burn a hole right through the map for what good that does. This forest is big as Vintas. Nobody owns it. You head off in the wrong direction in here, you’ll walk a hundred miles and never see a road, let alone a house or plowed field. There are places around here that have never felt the press of a man’s foot or heard the sound of his voice.”