In the north-west of Anarkand, where the sea breathes salt into sandstone cliffs and trade winds carry whispers from Tahlaria and Shakan, stands Qasra, a coastal, modern, yet stubbornly old nation. Its harbours have welcomed traders, pilgrims, and philosophers for eras beyond reliable record. It shares borders with Tahlaria to one side and Shakan to the other, and though it has never sought dominance, it has always commanded respect.


At the heart of Qasra are three cities, each carrying a different chapter of its soul.


BASHIRI - THE CITY OF THE GOLDEN QARAVAN

Bashiri rises from the shoreline like a sunlit vow. At its centre stands the Golden Qaravan, a colossal monument forged from solid gold, its surface reflecting dawn and dusk alike in blinding brilliance.


The statue depicts the final Qaravan creature, an enormous winged being of ancient origin. Qasran legend holds that during the assault of Syyn, when skies fractured and cities burned across Anarkand, the last Qaravan rose from the western sea and confronted the entity directly. The tale says it did not win. It did not need to. It delayed Syyn long enough for countless lives to flee destruction.


Scholars outside Qasra question the literal truth of the story. Qasrans do not. The monument was commissioned in the late 3rd era, cast from pooled wealth after decades of careful accumulation. Every household contributed. It was not built to glorify war, but sacrifice. Bashiri grew around it, becoming a city of artists, metalworkers, and chroniclers.



METUNKAMEN - THE CITY OF STONE

Further inland stands Metunkamen, carved more than constructed. It is a city of pillars, terraces, and immense statues whose faces have weathered into unreadable expressions.

Qasrans claim that parts of Metunkamen predate the First Era entirely. They argue that the city’s lowest structures were not built by known Anarkand civilisations, but by a precursor culture whose tools and techniques surpass even modern analysis. The stone is cut with precision that defies current understanding. Some structures align with celestial movements no longer visible in today’s sky.

Outside scholars dispute these claims. They argue that erosion, myth, and national pride distort interpretation. Its history is defined by preservation. Unlike many cities reshaped by modern architecture, Metunkamen resists alteration. Restoration is done with near-religious caution. Even broken columns are left as they fell, as if waiting for a memory to return.

It has become a pilgrimage site for historians, sceptics, and believers alike. The debate surrounding its origins fuels Qasra’s reputation as a land where the past refuses to stay buried.



AMUN-KAH - THE CITY OF THE LOST

Legend tells that the first peoples of Qasra were extraordinarily advanced. They harnessed tidal energies, and constructed systems of knowledge encoded into architecture. Then, without warning, they vanished. No bodies. No ruins of struggle. No evidence of migration. They simply vanished.


Amun-kah was founded centuries later near the region believed to have been their centre. It is known as the City of the Lost because its streets overlay what might have once been something far older. Occasionally, excavations reveal artefacts that do not match any known cultural timeline. Objects of strange alloys. Fragments of maps depicting coastlines slightly different from modern ones.


The disappearance remains one of Anarkand’s greatest unsolved mysteries. Qasrans treat it not as tragedy, but caution. Progress, they believe, must be balanced with humility.


When the sun sets over Bashiri and the Golden Qaravan blazes against the horizon, when Metunkamen’s shadows stretch long across ancient terraces, and when the sea breeze drifts through Amun-kah’s quiet streets, Qasra feels less like a nation and more like a memory that chose to survive.