The grand council chamber of Yorymh loomed above the assembled members, its vaulted ceiling lost in shadow. Banners bearing the crests of ancient bloodlines hung limp and heavy with age, their colours muted by the gloom. Relics of past victories, tarnished swords and dented helms, adorned the walls like the ghosts of fallen heroes. A thick haze of incense permeated the air, mingling with the hushed murmurs of influential figures from the Haliyun and Riyas factions, as well as other esteemed guests.

At the head of the chamber, Kalim Hayaari stood tall, his form rigid with authority, casting a long, dark shadow across the polished stone floor. His piercing brown eyes swept the room, demanding silence without uttering a word.

Hidayat's amber eyes darted to the empty seat where his father, Nahil, should have been, the gaping void a silent accusation against their family. He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of unease pressing down upon him like the thick dust-laden air of the council chamber. From his vantage point beside Kalim, Hidayat observed the furrowed brows and tense expressions on the faces of the assembled council members, the hushed whispers of concern a palpable presence in the room.

"Esteemed council members," Kalim began, his commanding voice slicing through the murmurings as though they were cobwebs in the path of a mighty storm. "As you know, we face many challenges in these uncertain times..." His words rang out with conviction, each syllable striking the walls of the grand chamber like the hammer blows of a master craftsman forging a weapon. Hidayat could not help but admire his brother's poise, even as his own heart trembled with doubt.

"From the fragile truce with our neighbours to the ever-increasing threats that lurk within the Labyrinth, we must remain vigilant." Kalim's eyes swept across the gathered representatives, who sat in rapt attention, their earlier disquiet momentarily quelled by the elder Hayaari's unwavering confidence. "Our enemies grow bolder by the day, and now we face a more insidious threat-the ongoing breakdown of reality itself. We must remain vigilant and address the root cause of this disruption, though its true nature remains elusive."

As Kalim spoke, Hidayat found himself growing increasingly uneasy. They both knew the true source of the reality breakdown-Hidayat's own existence.

Hidayat's inner turmoil churned like a storm within him, threatening to spill over and reveal the dark truth he harboured. As Kalim's words echoed in the cavernous space, his mind wandered to the alleys of Arymh, where vibrant murals told stories of courage and unity that seemed so far removed from the shadows that now enveloped him. He knew Kalim was misleading the council to protect him, but the weight of this deception felt unbearable.

"Furthermore," Kalim continued, "we must not allow fear or uncertainty to divide us. We must face these challenges together, as one united front."

Hidayat's eyes darted to the empty seat where his father, Nahil, should have been, the gaping void a silent accusation against their family. The lingering thoughts of Nahil's absences gnawed at his conscience like a relentless spectre. For all his brother's talk of unity, the empty chair whispered a bitter truth: there could be no true solidarity while the leader of their tribe remained absent, and while the true cause of their suffering remained hidden.

Hidayat frowned, his fingers unconsciously twisting the frayed edge of his sleeve as doubts festered within him. He knew that Nahil had placed his trust in the enigmatic Marinov, yet the man's true purpose remained shrouded in mystery. What secrets lay hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed?

Despite the solemnity that draped the grand chamber like a heavy cloak, Hidayat felt an urgent need to act. A sense of impatience gnawing at him as Kalim's voice resonated through the hallowed space. Leaning towards Kalim, Hidayat whispered about his need to step out. Kalim's brow furrowed in response, his gaze a silent reprimand tinged with concern. Reluctantly, he gave his terse permission, though his eyes held a warning that Hidayat dared not ignore: Whatever you do, don't miss Zevrana.

***

As Hidayat left the council chamber, a swirl of conflicting emotions churned within him, mirroring the tempestuous skies that loomed overhead. The streets of Yorymh were shrouded in an eerie stillness, the cobblestones whispering tales of bygone eras as if pleading for release from the burden of secrets they bore. Ignoring the ominous shadows that clung to every corner like spectres of forgotten truths, Hidayat's steps quickened with a newfound resolve.

His path led him through the winding alleys of Yorymh, where the austere facades of the Yorymh districts gave way to the vibrant hues of Arymh. Walls adorned with intricate carvings seemed to come alive in the moonlight, their ancient symbols pulsating with a faint ethereal glow. As he passed by bustling markets teeming with life and laughter, Hidayat felt a pang of longing for a sense of belonging he had never truly known.

The night air carried a hint of anticipation as Hidayat navigated the labyrinthine streets, guided by an unspoken pull towards the Repository, the repository of all knowledge in Yorymh. The Qara there were known to be strict, their scrutiny as sharp as the blades they wielded to protect the sacred texts within. Yet, the allure of uncovering something about Marinov, a puzzle piece in his fragmented existence, spurred Hidayat forward.

Hidayat's connection to the Unreal Realm manifested as a subtle tremor beneath his skin, a flickering iridescence that danced along his fingertips like ethereal firelight. He willed himself to become one with the shadows, melding seamlessly with the darkness that cloaked the Repository's entrance.

The Qara stood vigilant before the massive doors, their steely gazes scanning the surroundings for any sign of intrusion. Hidayat, now a phantom of whispers and intangible presence, slipped past their watchful eyes like a wisp of mist in the night. The air stirred with a hint of unseen movement, a faint echo of displaced reality that went unnoticed by the wary Qara.

As he crossed the threshold into the hallowed halls of the Repository, Hidayat felt a surge of exhilaration mingled with trepidation. The repository was a treasure trove of forgotten lore, a sanctuary of whispers and echoes that reverberated through the dimly lit chambers. The shelves towered high above him, laden with scrolls bound in cracked leather and tomes with weathered pages that bore the weight of centuries.

Hidayat moved with silent reverence through the labyrinthine aisles, trailing his fingers over the spines of books that held untold knowledge within their yellowed pages. Each step he took echoed softly, as if the repository itself whispered secrets long kept hidden from prying eyes.

He paused before a shelf that seemed to beckon to him, its contents bathed in a soft celestial glow that set his heart racing.

"Marinov," he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for the first scroll. "Who are you, truly?"

He delved into the records, his eyes scanning every word with feverish intensity. Each moment that passed felt like an eternity, the weight of his unanswered questions bearing down upon him like a crushing tide.

Beneath the dim glow of a single candle, Hidayat's amber eyes darted back and forth as he frantically sifted through records, the flickering light casting eerie shadows on the ancient parchment. The silence of the repository was oppressive, broken only by his own shallow breaths and the rustle of paper as he delved deeper into the layers of Yorymh's history.

"Marinov," Hidayat whispered urgently, his voice barely audible in the hallowed space. His fingers were deft and swift, dancing across scrolls and tomes in search of any mention of the elusive man. Anxiety gnawed at his insides, fuelled by the unspoken urgency he felt with each passing moment.

"Where are you hiding?" Hidayat thought bitterly, his frustration mounting. He had expected to find some trace of Marinov's existence, some hint that would lead him to the truth behind the enigmatic figure that had captured Nahil's trust.

As the minutes stretched into hours, Hidayat became increasingly frantic. He tore through the files, desperately seeking any scrap of information that might shed light on Marinov's past and his connections. But despite his best efforts, he found nothing. Not a single record bore Marinov's name, no mention of his deeds or lineage.

"Impossible," Hidayat muttered, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. "Everyone has a record..."

A cold sense of unease settled in his stomach. Was it possible that Marinov was more than just an enigma? That he was something darker, hidden even from the all-seeing eyes of the Haliyun?

For a brief moment, Hidayat hesitated, torn between his desire to uncover the truth and the growing dread that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness.

But as the candle's flame flickered, casting its final feeble glow, his eyes caught sight of a recent document partially tucked away under a pile of neglected scrolls. He pulled it out, his breath hitching as he saw a brief, almost dismissive reference:

"...A— Marinov, a Sifah of notable skill, recently involved in matters concerning the Unreal Realm..."

The words seemed to leap off the page, sending a shockwave through Hidayat. His mind raced as he pieced together the implications. A Sifah-one of the rare medics trained to cure Unreal Realm phenomena. And not just any Sifah, but one directly tied to the very realm that haunted his existence.

"Marinov... a Sifah?" Hidayat whispered, the realisation settling over him like a dense fog. His thoughts flashed back to the spectres of the Unreal Realm, their cryptic mentions of a Sifah who had survived the unfathomable.

A spark of determination ignited within him. If Marinov was indeed the Sifah who had survived the Unreal Realm, he might hold the key to Hidayat's survival and the stabilisation of reality itself.

"No wonder Father kept seeking his counsel," Hidayat said, a new sense of urgency propelling him forward. "I have to find him."

The flickering light of the candle finally gave out, plunging the repository into darkness. But Hidayat's resolve burned brighter than ever. He had uncovered a piece of the puzzle, and now, he would stop at nothing to find Arseniy Marinov and uncover the secrets that lay hidden within the enigmatic healer.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Hidayat steeled himself for the journey ahead. The path was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but there was no turning back. He had come too far, risked too much, to allow his doubts to consume him. And so, with determination etched into his face, he stepped out of the shadows of the repository, once again unseen by the Qara and ready to confront whatever secrets lay hidden in the tangled web of Yorymh's past.