Either Roxas' healing spell soothed the soul as it was to the physical injury, or it was simply the charm of a lovely elven lady, the young porter no longer throwing demented fits anymore, and soon was convinced to rest inside the wagon after someone assured him that his friend will be found. 

[b]"I've known Stepan for almost a decade. There is no way I am going to leave him behind!"[/b] Declared Vesemir with a sheer resoluteness. He then returned to the group that would conduct the rescue effort. 

When the disembodied eyes formed on a vantage point Fia had choosen, Gray couldn't help but be curious. He thought the sorceress had magically dismembered her own eye and had it floating in thin air, but then came the explanation, and that wasn't the case. 

"That's a useful spell..." Gray muttered before counting the participants and looked up to the sky, where the Polaris shone. He nodded at Fia's commentary about their delayed resting time, and notified that they still had a few hours until the dawn.  

"And, yeah, let us not waste any time." 

And so it began another march into the forest. The first trek after they walked past the paved road was anything but dry, likely due to the heavy rain several days ago. It allowed Gray to pick up the missing henchmen's trail immediately, and as far as their sole prints indicate, it seemed all four were drawn together like a herded flock. 

The lantern shone ever bright, but it did little to accelerate their speed. The trail was getting a more vague as they took a turn and routed past a giant boulder on the left side of the path. The forest were thicker in this area, and there was a great tree, and before that great tree (that hopefully wasn't another ent) the pathfinder finally stopped, his masked face stared at the bushes nearby, where stains of blood could be seen in its silky leaves. 

With great caution, he walked slowly, and as he arrived at the other side of that tree, Gray suddenly unsheathed his eastern sword and placed the lantern on the ground, which revealed strange marks on the soil, akin to something that was made by dozen of poles being stabbed to the ground repeatedly. 

"Ready your weapon!" he commanded before kneeling near a silhouette of a man lying on the ground. His coughing and wheezing indicated that this unfortunate poor sod was still alive, but severe wounds on his body and blood-frothed breath didn't make his condition look optimistic. He would not survive without any immediate medical attention. 

"I am wrong," said Gray, the direness of this situation seeped out from his emotionless mask. "This is not a work of a phantom, not at all---" 

Suddenly a melodious voice sounded in the cold misty air. It felt distant, but also clear at the same time. The ominous singing resonated like magic that halted the flow of time. Like a lullaby sung in unknown language that somewhat felt soothing. 

[b][i]Avea, avea, mont kein, Híris Ingwën...
Im ithen ava heliañ...  

♫

Pedir sánë bezañ qualin rhovan
Lyen ket lerta tremen[/i][/b]

The singing came from the east.