Ogion's restoration
Ogion's restoration is the turning point where Ged, having fled the Court of the Terrenon in the shape of a Pilgrim Falcon, is returned to his human form by his old master, the mage Ogion. This act not only saves Ged from losing himself entirely to the animal form but also provides the counsel that redirects his flight into a deliberate hunt, setting the course for the final confrontation with the shadow.
The Hawk's Flight and Arrival
Driven by rage and despair after escaping the Old Powers of the Terrenon, Ged had taken the shape of a great hawk—not the sparrowhawk of his nickname but the Pilgrim Falcon, which flies like an arrow. In that form he crossed the Osskil Sea and then the Jaws of Enlad, flying east by south over Oranéa and Andrad, until the white peak of Gont rose before him. Throughout that immense flight he had worn the falcon's wings and seen through its eyes, forgetting his own thoughts until he knew only what the falcon knows: hunger, the wind, the way he flies. He flew to the right haven, for there were few on Roke and only one on Gont who could make him back into a man.
Ogion's Recognition and Spell
Ogion had returned late to Re Albi from his autumn wanderings. On the morning after his return, as he fetched water from the spring, a great hawk came down with loud-beating wings and lighted on his wrist. The claws dug hard into his wrist, the barred wings trembled, and the round, gold eye was dull and wild. Ogion spoke gently to the hawk, asking if it were messenger or message, and when the hawk looked at him he said, "I named you once, I think." He brought the bird into his house and made it stand on the hearth in the fire's heat, offering water which it would not drink. Then Ogion began to lay a spell very quietly, weaving the web of magic with his hands more than with words. When the spell was whole and woven he said softly, "Ged," not looking at the falcon on the hearth. He waited some while, then turned and went to the young man who stood trembling and dull-eyed before the fire.
The Return to Human Form
Ged was richly and outlandishly dressed in fur and silk and silver, but the clothes were torn and stiff with sea-salt, and he stood gaunt and stooped, his hair lank about his scarred face. Ogion took the soiled, princely cloak off his shoulders, led him to the alcove-room where his prentice once had slept, and made him lie down on the pallet there, murmuring a sleep-charm. He had said no word to him, knowing that Ged had no human speech in him now. The peril of such transformation was great, as Ogion knew: the longer a man stays in a form not his own, the greater the danger of losing his true self. Ged had taken hawk-shape in fierce distress and rage, and the falcon's anger and wildness had become his own, his will to fly becoming the falcon's will.
Recovery and Counsel
Ged was savage and silent when he woke. Ogion never spoke to him, but gave him meat and water and let him sit hunched by the fire, grim as a great, weary, sulking hawk. When night came he slept. On the third morning he came in to the fireside where the mage sat gazing at the flames, and said, "Master . . ." Ogion welcomed him, and Ged confessed he had come back as he left: a fool. Over the fire, with snow falling softly on the roof, Ged told his old master the tale of the years since he had sailed from Gont aboard the ship called Shadow. Ogion asked no questions, and when Ged was done he kept silent for a long time, calm, pondering. Then he set out bread and cheese and wine, and they ate together.
The Turning Point
Ogion pointed out that Ged had strength enough to outspell a sorcerer in his own domain in Osskil, to withstand the lures and fend off the attack of the servants of an Old Power of Earth, and to stand up to a dragon at Pendor. But Ged replied that the evil thing that hunted him had no name. Ogion said certainly, "All things have a name." He then gave Ged the crucial advice: "You must turn around. If you go ahead, if you keep running, wherever you run you will meet danger and evil, for it drives you, it chooses the way you go. You must choose. You must seek what seeks you. You must hunt the hunter." He spoke of returning to one's beginning and holding that beginning in one's being, of being the stream itself from its spring to its sinking in the sea. Ged, after pacing and arguing, knelt before Ogion and said, "I have walked with great wizards and have lived on the Isle of the Wise, but you are my true master, Ogion." Ogion replied, "You will be my master, in the end."
The New Staff and Departure
Ogion went out and returned carrying a long, rough shaft of yew-wood. All the end of the short afternoon, and again after their supper, he sat working by lampfire on the shaft with knife and rubbing-stone and spell-craft, passing his hands along the wood as if seeking any flaw, often singing softly as he worked. When he finished, he handed the staff to Ged, saying, "The Archmage gave you yew-wood, a good choice and I kept to it. I meant the shaft for a long-bow, but it's better this way." In the cold dawn when Ogion woke, Ged was gone, having left a message of silver-scrawled runes on the hearthstone that faded even as Ogion read them: "Master, I go hunting."