If you have wandered through the halls of the University alongside Kvothe, felt the sting of his poverty and the fire of his brilliance, and emerged blinking into the daylight only to discover that the third book has not yet arrived—well then, dear reader, you are not alone. Countless souls have sailed those same enchanted waters and found themselves marooned upon the shore of wanting.
But take heart! For there exist other worlds equally wondrous, other heroes equally compelling, and other tales spun with that same gossamer thread of magic and melancholy. Here, gathered like treasures in a traveler’s pack, are fourteen books to carry you through until Kvothe’s story continues.
The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch
In the city of Camorr, which rises from the waters like a fever dream of Venice, there lives a thief so clever that one suspects the stars themselves must pause to watch his schemes unfold. Locke Lamora and his band of Gentleman Bastards practice the art of the long con against nobility who believe themselves untouchable.
What makes this tale sing for admirers of Kvothe is the voice—that same crackling wit, that same precocious brilliance wrapped in threadbare circumstances. The narrative dances between past and present, showing us how a street orphan became a legend. One reads with bated breath, for Scott Lynch writes action as though conducting a symphony of steel and shadow.
A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin
Before there was a University, before Hogwarts ever cast its shadow upon the page, there was Roke—the island school where wizards learned the true names of things. And there was Ged, called Sparrowhawk, whose pride summoned a shadow that would chase him across the scattered islands of Earthsea.
This slender volume contains multitudes. Published in 1968, it pioneered the very notion of a wizard’s school. The magic here operates through true names, granting power over wind and wave. One recognizes immediately the headwaters from which Rothfuss drew his own inspiration.
Assassin’s Apprentice by Robin Hobb
Some tales begin with a boy abandoned, and few begin so achingly as this one. FitzChivalry Farseer, the bastard son of a prince, is deposited at the gates of Buckkeep Castle like an unwanted parcel. From stable boy to royal assassin, his journey unfolds through one of fantasy’s most intimate first-person narratives.
Robin Hobb possesses a gift for making readers feel too much. Fitz’s loneliness echoes Kvothe’s; his magical abilities—the telepathic Skill and the animal-bonding Wit—mark him as different in a world that punishes difference. Here is character-driven fantasy of the highest order, wherein the heart matters more than the sword.
The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson
Upon the storm-scoured world of Roshar, where hurricanes sweep across the land with the regularity of seasons and plants retreat into stone at the first whisper of wind, three souls march toward a destiny that shall shake the very foundations of civilization. Kaladin, a slave with the heart of a soldier; Shallan, a scholar with dangerous secrets; and Dalinar, a general haunted by visions he cannot trust.
Brandon Sanderson has crafted a world so meticulously imagined that one could spend years exploring its corners. The magic system—Stormlight drawn from tempests and wielded through sworn oaths—possesses that same satisfying logic that makes sympathy and naming feel real. At over a thousand pages, this is no light undertaking, but oh, what an undertaking it is.
Mistborn: The Final Empire by Brandon Sanderson
Ash falls from the sky like grey snow. The mists creep forth each night. And for a thousand years, an immortal tyrant has ruled with absolute power—until a half-starved street thief named Vin discovers she can burn metals within her body and transform their power into magic.
What Rothfuss accomplishes with naming and sympathy, Sanderson achieves with Allomancy: a magic system so ingeniously constructed that readers find themselves calculating the physics of steel-pushing and iron-pulling. The story delivers a fantasy heist against an unkillable god, wrapped in a coming-of-age tale of a young woman learning to trust. It is, in a word, magnificent.
The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan
From the peaceful Two Rivers, where nothing ever happens worth the telling, young Rand al’Thor is swept into a world of Aes Sedai and Warders, of Trollocs and Myrddraal, of prophecies that speak of a Dragon Reborn who shall break the world even as he saves it. And unbeknownst to poor Rand, he may well be that very Dragon.
Robert Jordan’s epic spans fourteen volumes and millions upon millions of words—a commitment not for the faint of heart. Yet those who embark upon this journey discover a richly detailed world with a magic system divided between male and female halves, where the male half has been tainted with madness. The scope is breathtaking, the payoff immense.
Blood Song by Anthony Ryan
When Vaelin Al Sorna was but ten years old, his father left him at the iron gates of the Sixth Order without explanation or farewell. There, among warrior monks who train to kill in service to the Faith, the boy would forge himself into the man they would one day call the Hope Killer—a legend whose story is now being told to a historian as Vaelin awaits his execution.
The structure mirrors Kvothe’s tale precisely: a legendary figure recounting his own origin to a chronicler. The training sequences, the brotherhood forged through hardship, the gradual revelation of magical gifts—all strike familiar chords. Anthony Ryan’s debut was named Amazon UK’s best fantasy book of 2013, and one reads it to understand why.
The Black Prism by Brent Weeks
In a world where magic is drawn from light itself, where drafters pull luxin from colors and shape it to their will, there exists one man who can draft every color in the spectrum: the Prism. Gavin Guile is that Prism—high priest and emperor both—and he knows precisely how many years he has left to live. Then he discovers he has a son.
Brent Weeks constructs magic systems with the precision of an engineer and plots with the cunning of a chess grandmaster. The Lightbringer series spans five volumes of intrigue, sacrifice, and revelations that recontextualize everything that came before. For those who love the intellectual puzzle of Rothfuss’s magic, here is a feast.
The Magicians by Lev Grossman
Quentin Coldwater has spent his adolescence escaping into fantasy novels about a magical land called Fillory. Then he discovers that magic is real, that he can learn it at a secret college called Brakebills, and that Fillory itself exists. The trouble is, growing up doesn’t get easier when you can cast spells.
This novel has been called “Harry Potter for adults,” though such a label undersells its ambition. Grossman examines what happens when the fantasy you dreamed of turns out to be real but fails to solve your problems. It is darker than Rothfuss, more melancholy, and absolutely essential for readers who appreciate fantasy that grapples with genuine emotional complexity.
The Blade Itself by Joe Abercrombie
Say one thing for Logen Ninefingers, say he’s seen better days. The infamous Bloody-Nine, most feared warrior in the North, has outlived his friends, his enemies, and quite possibly his luck. Meanwhile, in the Union’s capital, a crippled torturer named Glokta extracts confessions with professional detachment, and a vain young nobleman named Jezal dreams of glory in the fencing circle.
Joe Abercrombie writes grimdark fantasy with such dark wit and sharp characterization that one cannot help but love even the monsters. This is fantasy for readers who suspect that heroes and villains are rarely as distinct as children’s tales suggest. The prose cuts like the blade of the title, and the characters lodge in one’s memory like old scars.
The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle
In a lilac wood, there lives a unicorn—the last unicorn, though she does not yet know it. When she sets forth to discover what has become of her kind, accompanied by a bumbling magician named Schmendrick and a practical woman named Molly Grue, she journeys toward the castle of a melancholy king and the Red Bull that haunts his shore.
Patrick Rothfuss himself has called this the finest book he has ever read, and who are we to argue? Peter Beagle writes prose of such crystalline beauty that every sentence feels like poetry. Published in 1968, this novel remains timeless—a meditation on mortality, regret, and the terrible price of becoming human even for a little while.
The Riddle-Master of Hed by Patricia A. McKillip
Morgon, Prince of Hed, desires nothing more than to tend his island’s farms and live simply. Unfortunately, the three stars upon his forehead mark him for a destiny he cannot escape. When he wins a crown from a ghost through riddling, he must journey to claim a princess and uncover the answers to riddles whose solutions have been lost for centuries.
Patricia McKillip writes with a poetic sensibility that matches Rothfuss’s own lyricism. Her prose shimmers like morning mist upon still water. The magic here is entwined with music and naming, with knowledge and identity—themes that will resonate deeply with anyone who has pondered the nature of Kvothe’s true name.
Red Rising by Pierce Brown
Beneath the surface of Mars, Darrow and his fellow Reds mine helium-3 in the belief that their labor is terraforming the planet for future generations. The truth, when he discovers it, breaks him: the surface blooms with cities and gardens, and Reds are nothing more than slaves to the ruling Golds. Reborn into a Gold’s body, Darrow infiltrates their brutal Institute to bring the whole system crashing down.
This science fantasy burns with the fury of revolution and the grief of love lost. Though set among the stars rather than in a medieval world, it shares with Kvothe’s tale that sense of a brilliant outsider clawing his way up through a society designed to crush him. The prose is muscular, the pacing relentless.
The Hum and the Shiver by Alex Bledsoe
Patrick Rothfuss himself recommended this series, calling it “a book somewhere between American Gods and Faulkner.” In the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, the Tufa have lived since before the first white settlers arrived. They keep to themselves, guard their secrets, and possess a magic that lives in music itself.
For readers who love how music weaves through Kvothe’s story—how his lute is as essential to him as breathing—the Tufa novels offer something rare and wonderful. Here is contemporary fantasy grounded in Appalachian culture, where songs carry power and the fey folk hide in plain sight. It is unlike anything else on this list, and all the more precious for that.
Begin Your Next Adventure
Each of these fourteen books offers something that drew you to The Name of the Wind: a brilliant protagonist struggling against circumstance, a magic system that rewards attention, prose that sings, or a world so fully realized you could lose yourself within its borders for days on end.
While we await word from the Waystone Inn—while Kvothe’s silence stretches on—there is no need to sit idle. Other inns await, other adventures beckon, and the shelves are full of wonders yet undiscovered. Pick up one of these tales, settle into your favorite reading chair, and let the story carry you away once more.
After all, that is what stories are for.
