Tonight was the night of the , a storm that swept across the Sea of Hoole once every decade. For a young Guardian-in-training, it was the ultimate test of navigation and courage .
"You flew with your heart tonight, Pip," Soren said, dipping his head in a silent salute. "The Gale didn't break you. It made you." Legends of the Guardians The Owls of Ga Hoole
The embers of the Great Ga’Hoole Tree glowed like fallen stars against the midnight bark. Deep within the hollow of the , a young Whiskered Screech owl named Pip stood at the edge of a high branch, his talons gripping the mossy wood with nervous intensity. Tonight was the night of the , a
"I’m ready," Pip squeaked, though his downy chest feathers fluttered. "Then fly," Boran commanded. "The Gale didn't break you
Pip’s heart hammered. He was small, but he was a Screech owl—he was fast. Instead of diving away, Pip folded his wings and plummeted straight toward the churning waves. The scout followed, shrieking a battle cry. At the very last second, just as the salt spray wet his belly, Pip executed a perfect , a maneuver he’d practiced a thousand times in the hollows.
Suddenly, a shadow loomed above him. Not a cloud, but a jagged, metallic shape. A , a mask of cold iron glinting in the moonlight, dived toward him. The enemy carried a clutch of fleck-stones , the cursed metal shards that could scramble an owl's senses.
Pip wasn't a warrior yet, but he dreamed of the . He had grown up on stories of Soren and the Great Battle, of noble owls who rose into the darkness to mend the world. Beside him stood his mentor, an old, battle-scarred Great Gray owl named Boran , whose left wing dipped slightly from an old encounter with the Pure Ones .