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// You're Not Here 
// Story: Quiet Valley 
// by Nightmare_0mega 
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Equestria's beautiful landscape of lush forests and green pastures, with the backdrop of majestic mountains and rolling hills, blistered by as the train charged forth on its path to the next destination. It was an ordinary event for most ponies in the land, as it had remained the most popular traveling choice for most by long distances. Whether it be to Las Pegasus, Fillidelphia, Manehatten, or even Canterlot, it was common for a full cart of eager passengers to be carried off to see the new sights and old.

However, the line being taken on this particular cart was a seldom traveled line. It was journeying off to the west, to the relatively unknown part of the land that had been all but forgotten by the rest of the world. It wasn't as if this place was completely isolated, but all that have ever traveled there were said to never be seen again. At least, that's what he heard when he collected the ticket for this excursion.

The cabin door of one of the only passengers on this journey was swiftly opened, and a pony stepped through, clearing his throat. "Uhm, Mister... Vergil, was it?" A brown clad pony had asked, his dark green uniform identifying him as staff of this current railway.

Sitting silently with a sheathed katana at his side against the train wall, pale blue eyes gazing out into the landscape all around, the pony addressed as Vergil slowly turned his attention to the ticket master that had approached him. He ran his silver coated hoof through his white, medium-length hair gently, and gave his blue clad coat a slight tug to rough out some of the wrinkles, as if to force himself to focus on someone he felt was unimportant.

"What is it?" Vergil replied, irritably.

"I'm very sorry to disturb you," the porter stated, "But I must inform you that we'll be arriving near the destination shortly."

Vergil gave a quiet nod, almost dismissively, as he turned his attention back to the outside, which slowly was becoming shrouded in mist.

"I must also remind you that the ticket you purchased is one way. If you wish to make a return trip back home, as per policy on this particular line, you must-"

"I know what I must do," Vergil barked back, "You were all very clear about that back in Ponyville. I do not have time or energy to waste on discussing this matter once again." 

"R-right," the staff pony stuttered out.

"Now, begone."

With that command, the train attendee backed out of the passenger cabin, and shut the door, leaving Vergil alone once again. Of course he was unbothered by the whispers and hearsay about the location he was headed for. He was a Son of Sparda, a half-devil blessed with might very rarely matched, but not quite uncontested. It was a mission in his life to remedy that error, but for now, it would be placed on the back burner, at least until he has a proper opportunity. As the silence began to set in once again, he reached into his jacket, and removed a set of papers he had been carrying. One was the note left behind from a very important individual, stating absence for a set period of time to visit family in a far away town. It was a strange method to announce such a thing, but considering the shy nature of the individual, he figured it was normal. At least, as normal as he knew for the time he had been in this world.

The second note, however, was addressed directly to him. Stranger still was the content within. It was beyond any real reasoning, even in the context of the insanity he put up with while a 'guest' in Equestria.

"I see that town in my restless dreams; Quiet Valley." he read aloud to himself, "I see myself, finding a special place, where you could finally be happy. I'm all alone now, and you're not here. But, I'll keep waiting, only for you." He stopped reading, clicked his tongue as he folded both letters and placed them back inside of his jacket pocket. Something was off about all this. She was supposed to be off to see family, and now she ended up in a town known, but not recognized by any current map? Furthermore, the second letter sounded like a love-struck fool. It made no sense. He wouldn't have believed a lick of it if it weren't for one very important fact. Both letters were in her writing. This lead to only one conclusion, which is why he decided to come alone. "Fluttershy," Vergil uttered, "What are you doing out here?" He gazed back out of the window as the fog slowly began to get thicker and thicker while the train felt like it was slowing down.

As it finally came to a stop, Vergil rose from his seat and fastened his blade to his side before he exited the cabin. He then slowly stepped down the walkway towards the exit door, where the porter was, waiting at his assigned station, already opening the door. Disembarking from the train, Vergil gazed about the lonely, barren train station. The platform was splintered and cracked, showing signs of neglect for who knows how long. Train schedules from seemingly years ago remained up and available, despite how dirtied and decayed they had become. There was a palpable chill in the air that seemed just a little bit unnatural. There's something definitely wrong here, he thought, which only fueled his suspicions over the strange note. His focus was then usurped by one off the attendees, whom had followed him out.

"Welcome to Quiet Forest Station. Mister Vergil, as per policy, I must inform you of where you need to go to contact us once your business is concluded. At the end of the terminal here is a telephone line, connected back to the nearest available station. If you wish to return home, or head to a new destination, simply phone, reserve a ticket, and follow the tracks out. We will be sure to reserve your seat for the trip to your next destination when you arrive. We may also take you back right now, if you so desire, provided that you purchase a ticked here and now."

"I know," Vergil dismissed once again, somewhat irately.

"However," the attendee continued, "This train will depart once you leave the platform. Please remember this."

Vergil remained silent for a moment, looking out to and fro from the station's boarder. "I have just one question," he said finally.

"Oh? What is it, Mister Vergil?"

"Which way to the town of Quiet Valley? If I recall, this station is still a fair distance away from the limits."

"Oh," the attendee started with a deflated tone, "Well, once you leave the platform through the exit, you'll come across the forest trail. This is the closest route to Quiet Valley."

Without another word, Vergil walked off towards the exit, and disappeared from sight. The train attendee gave a sigh, before he climbed back aboard the cart and began the final checks for departure.


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The train station was a surprisingly small and straightforward place to navigate, but the trail that came after was a much different affair. The feeling of the slope told the young half breed he was descending down the hillside. Dense, grey fog obscured the world around him, leaving only hints of trees and the immediate surroundings reasonably visible. If he were anyone else, he felt he could easily get turned around along the way the moment he lost focus. Carelessness was the greatest foe here, which left Vergil undeterred.

He pressed on through the shrouded forest, hearing the foliage sway and rustle from the gentle, chilly wind that flowed through the fog. The sound of a crow or a raven could be heard in the distance, echoing for a moment before all became silent again. Unlike the other wildernesses he had to trek through, barring the location of the Gates of Tartarus, this place had the honor and distinction of being entirely cold, and somewhat empty. It was a strong sense of loneliness that he hadn't felt in a long while, and this time it was unforgiving.

Despite the nature of these trails, the Son of Sparda pressed forth, continuing to hike further down the trail. The constant grey was only broken up by flashes of green and brown, up until he came to a gate, that read "Quiet Forest Cemetery".

"A cemetery?" Vergil questioned flatly, "How droll."

With a gentle push, the gate squeaked open in protest, and he stepped through, beginning his trek through the hallowed ground. It was quite the normal looking plot of land, with elegant burial stones and tablets lined up in orderly rows, remaining dignified and mostly undisturbed. For a moment, he kept his guard up, more out of habit for the location he was in rather than any real danger. After all, there had been more than one instance where he encountered an ambush of demons hiding in a cemetery. It would have been quite the cliche, and a nice little change of pace for all the nothing he paced through until now. Despite his thoughts, the reality was that there simply were no threats in hiding. The less resistance, the better I suppose, he thought.

Upon dropping his guard however, and due to the fog's obscuring grey nature, Vergil accidentally stumbled over something, causing him to briefly lose his balance. Pride wounded, he swiftly regained his focus and touched his hilt, snapping towards the offending object... or subject.

"Whoa, hey, jeez dude," came the panicked voice of a young stallion, whom rushed to his hooves, but stayed low and slowly backed up. He wore a dirty khaki trenchcoat over the top of his light tan body, and a matching rimmed hat upon his brown mane. The only color that didn't fit with the earthy colors were his blue eyes.

Vergil glared at the individual for a moment, before his hoof slowly retracted away from his blade. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"Hey, bub, I could ask the same thing of you. I mean, you're the one that kicked me awake, literally." he argued. Vergil remained silent and measured, cautiously watching this new individual. Said pony clicked his tongue, and gave a sigh. "Whatever. If ya gotta know, I was having a nap."

"In a cemetery?" Vergil asked flatly.

"I have my reasons," he responded. "Anyway, now that I explained myself, it's your turn. I mean, not many folks come down here."

Vergil stared for a moment before he relented. "I'm looking for someone. I was told she may be here."

The strange pony's face went from a coy expression upon hearing 'she' to one of concern. "Hold on, here? You mean as in..." He trailed off, looking about the lined up tombstones.

"Not here in the Cemetery, you buffoon." Vergil snapped.

He then gazed off into the distance, away from the forest trail. "Oh, well, that's worse."

"What do you mean?" Vergil asked, somewhat curious.

"Well, and I don't know when this happened, but," the young stallion started, going silent for a moment, "That town... There's something wrong with it."

"Wrong?"

"Yeah, just..." he trailed off for a moment, before looking directly at Vergil and gave a nervous chuckle, "Heh, you probably don't believe me."

"I haven't said that," Vergil admitted, "However, it doesn't matter. I have business to attend to in town, and if there is indeed something going on, then it's all the more pressing."

"Right." He walked up to the Son of Sparda, and offered a hoof. "I hope you find whoever you're looking for."

Vergil looked at the stranger's offered hoof, then back at the stranger.

"Oh, right, maybe you're the type that prefers introductions first? My name is Red."

Vergil raised an eyebrow for a moment, before tentatively reaching for Red's hoof. "Vergil." He responded curtly.

"Good meeting with you Vergil, and good luck." With that, Vergil let go of Red and turned away to leave, but the pony stopped him for a moment. "Oh, wait a minute. If you're keen on getting into town, just head through the gate that way. From there, there's only the one road. You can't miss it."

"Thanks," Vergil responded flatly, before he finally took his leave, crossing the Cemetery, and reached the gate that lead to the town road. It was only a matter of time now before his real search began. He only hoped now that he'd find exactly what he was looking for.