Chapter 1 The Austor
In this world, there are many countries — some known, some hidden in the pages of silence.
But among them exists one that the world has forgotten — a place wrapped in mystery, power, and darkness.
Its name is Monastor.
A nation where laws are written by fear, and silence is the only language people speak.
Let’s dive into the untold story of Monastor — the story of SARKAR.
SARKAR – Chapter 1: The Austor
In the world of Monastor, a thousand years ago, chaos ruled the land.
Every town sought control — not for peace, but for power.
There were five great towns, each with their own beliefs… their own gods.
1. The Dostage:
A land where people worshipped the Water God, Pancharan.
But faith alone couldn’t save them — for their king was cruel.
People cried under his rule, tortured for the smallest mistake, praying that Pancharan would one day hear their pain.
2. The Yumsar:
A town of forests, beauty, and love.
Here, nature was god — every leaf, every river carried a spirit.
They had no king, no ruler, only harmony.
It was said, “Those who enter Yumsar forget the taste of violence.”
3. The Austor:
Cruel, ruthless, and feared by all.
Their protector was no human — it was a creature of fire and rage.
They called him Sarkar — the Fire Lion.
His body burned with eternal flames, his roar could turn sand into glass.
People believed that as long as Sarkar lived, Austor would never fall.
4th & 5th Towns – Sakur and Exer:
No one dared to enter.
Legends whispered that gods once lived there — Sarkar, Pancharan, and many others.
Some said it was paradise. Others said it was a graveyard of gods.
Now… our story dives into The Austor,
Where power begins… and destiny awakens.
In the present day, the city of Austor has transformed.
Once a land of flames and faith, it is now gleamed with technology and invention.
Towering metal structures touched the clouds, and air vehicles glided through glowing skies.
The people of Austor had no king — they lived as independent citizens.
But independence came with a price.
The sunlight here was weak, dimmed by layers of smoke and ash from the city’s power plants.
Crops barely grew, and food was imported from faraway lands.
Though advanced, Austor was slowly dying — bright in metal, dark in life.
Gigantic walls surrounded the city’s borders, armed with automated turrets and laser shields.
No one entered. No one left.
Beyond those walls lay the forests — dry, half-burnt, and haunted by old tales.
And yet, in the hearts of the people, one belief remained unshaken —
the belief in Sarkar.
The Fire Lion. The Guardian of Austor.
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At the city’s learning center, a group of children sat in a circle around an old teacher.
Their eyes were curious, full of questions.
“Sir,” said the little boy softly,
“Who is Sarkar?”
The old man smiled, his wrinkled eyes reflecting the flicker of an old flame.
“My child,” he began, “people say Sarkar was no ordinary being.
He was a fire lion who once appeared when our city was drowning in fear and war.
A rider came upon him, cloaked in light and shadow — together, they protected the Austor.”
The children listened, wide-eyed.
He continued, “Long ago, Austor was vast — stretching beyond mountains.
But during the Great Division, it broke apart.
Two new lands were born from it — Sakur and Exer.
And Austor… became small.
But even today, the flames of Sarkar live within our city’s hearts.”
Just then, a young man interrupted with a scoff.
“Sir,” he said boldly, “why are you teaching them these fairy tales?
A fire lion with a rider? That’s not history — it’s a myth.”
The old man turned toward him slowly.
His eyes no longer seemed weak or tired — there was something burning deep inside them.
“Maybe it’s a myth to you,” he said quietly.
“But remember… every myth was once the truth.”
The class fell silent.
Outside, lightning flashed above the iron towers —
and for a moment, it almost looked like a lion’s shadow moved across the sky.
The young man returned home, his face calm but tired. Inside the house lived his mother and younger sister. His father died long ago in the great war of Monastor. The house was silent, only old photographs hanging on the walls reminded them of the past.
He finished his lunch quietly and went for a short nap. The noise of air vehicles outside filled the room faintly. Suddenly, his phone started ringing.
“Hey! Where are you?” shouted Ganz, his best friend.
“What happened?” the young man replied.
Ganz said, “Did you forget? You promised we’d go camping in the forest for adventure!”
“Oh… I really forgot. Wait, I’m coming. Tell the others too,” said the young man.
“Fine! But don’t be late,” replied Ganz and hung up.
The young man stood up, stretched, and walked to the door. “Mom, I’m going to the forest for camping and adventure,” he said.
His mother replied softly, “Be careful, son. Will you stay there?”
“Yes, for two days,” he replied with a smile.
He stepped outside; the cold wind brushed his face. The sky was full of flying vehicles and neon lights. Austor city was alive, shining under its artificial sun.
He didn’t know that this trip would lead him to the legend.
The young man and his four friends were gliding through the evening sky in their air car. Ganz pointed ahead and said, “Hey, is that an eagle?”
One of the friends laughed, “No, that’s a Carzer.”
“Yes,” replied the young man, “Carzers look like eagles but they aren’t — they move in packs, just like wolves.”
While continuing the story, let’s take a look at the group of friends —
There were four of them: Ganz, Oscar, Arthur (the young man), and Halver.
As the sun sank behind the clouds, their car hovered near the boundary of the great forest. A signboard flashed red: “No Vehicles Allowed Beyond This Point — Danger Zone.”
Network signals vanished one by one.
They stepped out, carrying bags, torches, and scanners — and together, they entered the silent, mysterious forest.
They were now searching for an open place to set up their camp.
All the torches were glowing in the dim forest light.
Oscar bent down and said, “Look—these are animal footprints, towards the left.”
Halver examined closely. “A lion’s… and they look fresh.”
Arthur had gone ahead, looking for space, when he called out,
“Hey everyone! Over here—it’s open, we can camp here!”
They gathered wood, built their tents, and prepared for the night.
Ganz asked, “Where’s the FDR?”
(FDR—an instrument used for burning.)
Halver replied, “I’ll bring it from the tent.”
He opened the tent flap, grabbed the FDR… and then froze.
Above him, circling in the misty night sky—was the same Carzer.
Halver returned to the group, sitting down quietly.
Arthur said, “Come on, let’s do something fun.”
Oscar replied, “Forget fun—I saw lion tracks.”
Halver nodded. “Yes, and they looked burnt... as if fire touched them.”
Ganz whispered, “A burnt footprint… I’ve heard there’s a legend about that.”
Arthur smirked. “A legend? Come on, it’s fake. But fine, tell us—I’ll enjoy a story.”
Halver’s eyes turned serious. “No, Arthur… I don’t think it’s fake. The Carzer… look up.”
They all turned their heads—and the night wind fell silent.
Arthur laughed lightly, “Come on, Ganz! Carzers fly everywhere. It’s nothing special.”
He threw a small stone into the fire and smirked.
“Now, you start your story.”
Ganz looked into the flickering flames.
“My grandfather once told me… long ago, Austor City was vast—so vast that two rival towns constantly attacked our lands.”
The forest fell quiet as his voice deepened.
“Our ancestors fought many wars… but they could never win. And then, one day, a rider appeared—riding a lion made of fire.”
Everyone fell silent. The flames reflected in their eyes.
Ganz continued, “That lion burned through the enemy armies… and saved Austor. But at the end of the battle, the rider died—sacrificing himself.”
Arthur leaned forward, curiosity now replacing his earlier disbelief.
“And what happened to the two towns?” he asked.
Ganz’s eyes darkened.
“There’s another legend behind that,” he whispered.
The forest wind blew harder, as if listening to the tale itself.
Yumsar — the town of forests, beauty, and love.
It was in this sacred land that Sarkar was born.
Before his birth, Austor had suffered terribly.
Wars, famine, and rebellion had nearly erased its name from the maps of Monastor.
But when Sarkar and his rider rose to defend Austor, everything changed.
They fought with the strength of gods — fire against darkness, will against death.
Yet, when the rider was breathing his last, he turned to two loyal warriors and said,
"Protect Austor… even after I’m gone."
Those two people became the silent guardians of Austor.
And while the rider fell, the people of Yumsar took a painful decision —
they separated Sakur and Exer from Austor, dividing the land to preserve balance.
It is said that after the Great Division, Sarkar disappeared into Exer,
the land of shadows and eternal flame.
Back in the forest, Halver broke the silence.
“What about those two people?” he asked quietly.
Ganz looked into the fire, the glow flickering across his face.
“They still live in Austor,” he said, “but no one knows where.”
Arthur chuckled softly.
“Nice story,” he said, “but not real.”
Ganz pointed toward the distance.
“Near here,” he said, “lies the battlefield where the Great War once raged… and beyond it stands the Gate.
They say the other side of that gate leads to Exer.”
Arthur’s eyes lit up.
“Then what are we waiting for? We came here for adventure — let’s go!”
Halver yawned and waved a hand.
“I’m not going. I’m tired. You three go.”
Arthur, Ganz, and Oscar grabbed their torches and began walking through the shadowed forest.
The night was heavy and alive with strange whispers.
A faint howl echoed — long and deep.
Oscar froze. “Was that… a wolf?”
They reached a vast clearing. In front of them stood a massive iron gate, its surface rusted and ancient.
Only one small lock hung loosely at the side.
Oscar said, “Anyone could break that lock. People could easily enter.”
Ganz shook his head slowly.
“People can enter,” he said, “but no one does. Those who go beyond… never return.”
Arthur smirked.
“I don’t believe in ghost stories. Look—there’s light on the other side. That means people live there! We’re going in.”
But before they could move, a sound like thunder rolled across the forest.
Out of the mist stepped a wolf, its eyes glowing bright yellow.
Its body pulsed with strange, golden light — almost like living fire.
Oscar whispered, “Arthur… I think we should run.”
And they did.
Branches cracked under their feet as they sprinted toward their camp.
The wolf’s glowing silhouette followed — fast, silent, relentless.
When they finally reached their tents, breathless and pale, they froze.
Above the campfire hovered something ethereal — a faint, fiery shape twisting in the air.
Oscar’s voice trembled.
“What… was that?”
The flame flickered once… and for a moment, it looked like the soul of a Carzer — blazing beautifully in the night.
What will happen next, wait for part 2.
