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Chapter Text

I assume you are reading this long after my death. Such a manuscript I would never dare to publish nor let anyone glance at in my lifetime, not when the House of Imtaz persecute ulama who make even the slightest insinuation of the prior existence of the Alayin family clan. As I pen these words, I am still filled with agonizing doubt about whether risking my reputation and legacy as a scholar in pursuit of the truth is worthwhile. Once you have read the contents herein, you may conclude I am delusional and perhaps a heretic—I do not blame you! Yet only He can say for certain.
Historians including my most esteemed self agree that the Imtaz have ruled the Benashid Caliphate since 458 AH. Within the last two decades, however, a notion creeped into my thoughts and cast an ever-growing shadow of doubt on what I previously considered an irrefutable fact (and to a certain extent, I still do).
The recollection of the Alayin—not the Imtaz—as the ruling dynasty of the Benashid Caliphate for the past century looms in the back of my mind. And not just my mind, but the minds of other respected scholars, whose names I shall not disclose, as well as members of the general population.
We are a small yet considerable minority. The silencing of those who are vocal and outspoken among us inadvertently legitimizes the whispers circulating about the Alayin. If the Imtaz did not deal with them in a heavy-handed manner, perhaps they would have died out on their own a long time ago as unsubstantiated rumors. But as more and more ‘Alayin heretics’ are imprisoned and executed, one cannot help but dwell on the following questions: Who are the Alayin? How come a few people but not everyone are filled with the sudden and vague remembrance of them? Why does the ruling family go to such extreme lengths to censor even the mere mention of them?
I cannot answer all of these questions nor any one of them in full. What I can do, however, is provide information as a primary source to shed light on the mystery of the Alayin. My commentary is in the form of a series of letters between myself and a certain Rushd al-Saludin who no longer exists—or never did in the first place!
My eidetic memory has never failed me in the recitation of scripture and hadith. By groping through the inner-most depths of my mind and clinging onto the vestiges of forgotten memories, I have reconstructed the correspondence word-by-word. In the interest of casual readers, this manuscript only includes the letters that are relevant to the mystery of the Alayin—all of which are from Saludin, as my role in the main plot appears to be as a confidant and nothing more. The complete correspondence (which you may or may not have already found) is in a leather case in the bottommost drawer of the desk beside my bed.
Without further digression, here are the contents of the letters that form the narrative:

17 Safar, 513 AH. — May this letter find you well, old friend. I pray for the health and safety of you and your wives, and of your sons and daughters—Allah protect them and protect us all during these tumultuous times.

To start off, allow me to express how grateful I am for our friendship. Even among my close colleagues and peers at Baghdad, there are few whom I trust enough to disclose my private thoughts to, and none more trustworthy than you. As Caliph Omrahah has tasked me to secure the stability of the Benashid Caliphate through whatever means possible, I need someone to confide in to alleviate the stresses on my mind.

The Assassins (whom we have strong reason to suspect as being implanted within our borders by the Ayyashid Caliphate) continue to terrorize the masses, killing public officials and commoners alike. Turkish raiders have strained our forces up north while Mamluks across the land are usurping their Arab and Persian masters to rule little kingdoms of their own. Trade has stalled, and unrest is rampant on the streets.

I have tried to be as co-operative as possible with Qazim in addressing these issues, but you know how much he dislikes me. In fact, they all do. Even a few of the mages under my direct authority seem disdainful toward me. No doubt they have spent too much time entertaining the rumors (or perhaps slander is the more appropriate term). I am sure even you have gotten wind of the recent accusation of polytheism a few disgruntled Ash’arites attempted to make against me.
Ash'arism has taken hold of the ulama. They have confined their worldview to the strictest interpretation of the Koran. Yet how can they acquire a full and fruitful understanding of His creations without engaging with the ideas and beliefs of the people outside and before the ummah? Few are those capable of facing the truth without averting their gaze from its brilliance.

Even Omrahah, despite his projections of conservatism to save face with the public, is on the same page as us Mu'tazilites. He—as I had determined long ago—understands that the solution to the great crisis our time lies not in policymaking, social reformation, or military efforts. Such means have been exhausted in vain to delay the forthcoming collapse. Nothing short of divine intervention shall save the Moslem World, but the onus is on us to channel the powers vested in Him and His servants.

I have assembled a council of my most trusted pupils and fellow sheikhs. We plan to curate and sift through the literature pertaining to the practices of sorcery across different societies during the Age of Ignorance. The Ruman Empire, in particular, offers us a plethora of avenues to explore due to her unprecedented openness to barbarian cultures and religions. As you and I both know, one should not let the decadence of the Rumans today delude him of the fact that they had once championed a civilization almost as grand and sophisticated as those of us Moslems. Of course, while we Moslems worshipped The One, the Rumans worshipped His servants, or false and fictitious gods altogether. As a result of their ignorance, the Ruman Empire suffered catastrophe after catastrophe until at last she lost her vast swathes of territory and was reduced to her current state of primitiveness.

I do not know the precise nature and scale of what our intellectual efforts shall yield. An enchantment for improving the durability of our weapons and armor? An incantation for invoking the wrath of a divine servant upon our enemies? A formula for a potion to grant us new magical abilities? The depths of the unknown are deeper than what anyone can fathom, including learned men such as ourselves. Nonetheless, I am convinced this is the sole path left for us to take.

My invitation for joining the council extends to you, though I understand if you must decline. You are quite busy as is with running your school, I imagine. Furthermore, your unwillingness to risk the lives and reputation of yourself and your family is not to be considered as cowardice in my eyes. If the Ash’arites had their way from the beginning, I along with other respected ulama would have been imprisoned or executed long ago. Indeed, the border dividing rationality and heresy has thinned during these past couple of years and should not have been set between the two in the first place.

I shall keep you updated on our progress in my next letters, though I do hope for an in-person meeting between us in the near future. Please keep me updated on your affairs as well.

I look forward to hearing from you. Take care, my dear friend.

Chapter Text

5 Rabi-ul-Awwal, 513 AH — I apologize for the brusque manner with which my courier dealt with you and your servants during the delivery of my previous letter. Mohammed is a rough and uncouth man, but a useful one. He and his company are responsible for the transmission of all of my communications with my peers and subordinates in the outside world—entrusted by Omrahah himself. As veteran soldiers who found no repose in civilian life after years of fighting on the frontiers, they are well-suited for travelling the bandit-infested roads and making sure my messages do not get intercepted or compromised.

Aside from the brief altercation, I am glad to hear that the letter was warmly received and that you and your family are doing well…

…I forgot to mention an important detail in the instructions for the task assigned to me by Omrahah. Along with quelling the internal and external threats to the Benashid Caliphate, he expects me to secure the throne for his eldest son and his descendants thereafter. As you know, I am quite fond of the Alayin, so much so that I almost consider myself to be one of them. Though rest assured, I shall put the needs of the caliphate and Dar al-Islam before everything else. I am indifferent as to who assumes the position of caliph and which family he hails from, so long as he is qualified to carry out the responsibilities. Unfortunately for Omrahah, his son strikes me as unfit for the role—a shrewd and kind-hearted soul but shy and timid. His character lacks the charisma and fortitude needed to safely navigate the political sphere and bear the weight of public opinion.

In response to your question about whether I have informed my wife and children about my plans: I have not.

Leylah is the most loyal and compassionate wife a man could ask for, but the seeds of Ash’arism have been implanted in her mind and are beginning to sprout. We have had numerous discussions. I explained to her how strictly living according to the word of the Koran violates the Tawheed, the concept of singleness which Islam is pillared upon—worship none other than the one and only! Despite being unable to refute my arguments through logical reasoning, she still seems unconvinced. I fear she shall fall victim to her emotional whims and jeopardize my endeavor at some point or another. And why should I tell my children? Least of all, my eldest son? No need to drag him into matters which are far beyond his current aptitudes to comprehend. Better to keep him in the dark, so he can continue his studies in peace. (On a related note, the last time I spoke to him, he told me that he enjoyed your lectures on ancient history, finding them most insightful. He looks forward to attending your classes again after he returns from Masur.)

Leylah, of course, shall find out eventually. She knows when I am keeping secrets from her and how to pry them from me. She is an intelligent woman. In fact, some people, especially Ash’arites ironically, would consider her to be too intelligent for her and my own good. What kind of man lets his wife dabble in public affairs and exercise such control and influence over him? They would advise I discipline her or file for divorce if she proves to be unruly. But you understand why I cannot bear to do either of those things? No, I must continue to use reason to try bringing her back to the side of the Mu'tazilites. Until then, my conversations with her regarding Omrahah’s task must not betray the true nature of my plans, which she would falsely perceive as heretical. The poor, deluded girl! She would turn me in, believing in her heart that she had done the Moslems an honorable deed when in fact she has ensured their ruin.

My scholars are busy poring through books and scrolls. I have also dispatched learned adventurers to procure novel texts from libraries across the world. Once we have synthesized and categorized all of the information, then comes the difficult part of determining which of the newfound knowledge is most viable and applicable for combatting the crisis. In the meantime, I have been attending to my duties as grand mage. The rest of the viziers do not seem to have the slightest suspicion of my undercover operation, which Omrahah is funding through the public treasury as well as out of his own pockets.

I should be able to accommodate a function with you and your family later this month during your visit to Baghdad. Do not hesitate to notify my residence upon your arrival.

See you soon, old friend.

Chapter Text

14 Shawwal, 513 AH

Forgive me for my silence these past couple of months. I hope you and your family had a wonderful Ramadan and Eid-al-Fitr.

I am quite occupied at the moment. This letter, in fact, has been penned by my servant but dictated aloud and proofread by my own eyes.

My council’s investigations thus far have been fruitful. For example, we have learned a spell for creating a phantom duplicate of oneself capable of delivering physical and magical blows. Moreover, another spell we have learned grants the ability to cast spectral, knife-like projectiles that are sharp enough to pierce iron. Besides combative spells, we have learned various incantations for civilian applications, one in particular for improving crop yield through increasing the permeability of the soil. And we are just scratching the surface. We still have volumes upon volumes of texts to delve into, which is fortunate for us as the ‘silver arrow’ has yet to be found. Unfortunately, time is not on our side.

Our discoveries have strengthened the caliphate’s corps of battlemages who, with their newfound abilities, have been critical to keeping the invading Turks at bay. The Assassins, however, continue to wreak terror and havoc. The massacres they committed at mosques across cities and towns during this past Eid are sickening to say the least. They blend in with the masses and strike without warning in the most brutal and cowardly manner possible, sowing fear and distrust amongst the people. At the moment, we do not possess the means to intercept and thwart their operations nor besiege their impregnable mountain fortress.

Meanwhile, my efforts to save the Moslems are being undermined by the Moslems themselves. Qazim and other viziers are suspicious about how I came to learn the aforementioned spells and incantations. They demanded a probe into my activities along with a court hearing. Omrahah convinced them to drop the matter for now, but I fear he will be unable to do so again the next time they press him. His reputation amongst the public and his staff worsens by the day. A widely held belief spread by the Ash’arites insists that the current plight of the Benashid Caliphate is a direct result of the impiousness of the ruling class as well as the heretical teachings of the Mu’tazilites. They believe Allah is punishing us for having strayed from His path and that the only way back to it is to live according to the strictest interpretation of the Koran and to reject all else. It is most convenient for them to channel their anger and hatred toward the current administration and me in particular.

Even my wife resents me. I had no choice but to disclose the true nature of my plans to her. She had figured out a long while ago, I reckon, but she only recently succeeded in forcing the details out of me. I cannot lie to her. In fact, I cannot lie to anyone. Like any good-hearted, god-fearing man, I detest falsehoods of every sort. Those who lie to others, lie to themselves. Whenever I find myself on the brink of telling a lie, my soul shudders within me, my words get tied in my throat, and my voice trembles. Leylah knows this, of course, and had keenly observed my facial and bodily reactions as I responded to her interrogative line of inquiries.

When I had at last ‘confessed,’ her lips began to quiver, and tears welled in her eyes. She looked at me with the most pitiful expression, as though I, her husband and lover, father of her children, am to be damned for eternity. The poor, deluded girl! In her heart of hearts, she means well for me, but her mind has been misguided by the notions of Ash’arism into believing that I am the misguided one. Of this, however, I am unable to persuade her no matter how hard I try. She takes after Ibn Hanbal whose unjust imprisonment and execution shall forever besmirch the image of us freethinkers of Islam. I propose to her arguments based on logic and reasoning; she responds by reciting scripture. I explain to her how the present circumstances necessitate drawing knowledge and power from unorthodox sources; she says the Prophet Muhammed never needed anything but the Koran and neither do we. In a last desperate attempt to get through to her by pulling at her heartstrings, I ask if she loves me enough to trust my judgement; she answers that her love for Allah is greater. Yet she still loves me a great deal. Otherwise, she would have outed me (and Omrahah) to the public by now. Though I must keep a careful eye on her.

Lately, I have been asking myself why I even bother to serve the caliphate when the people I am trying to save would clap me in irons at a moment’s notice if given the chance. Then, I remind myself that I am a servant of God. If anything, I am one of the few true servants He has left. Critics may curse my name, bark profanities at me, and spit on my face, like the dogs they are; but the ultimate truth, which lies between me and Him, shall remain as is, steadfast and pure.

To give credit where credit is due, the Ash’arites are not wrong in calling out the ruling elite for their pompousness and overindulgence in luxury, which has indeed set into motion forces of societal decay, visible and invisible. But to posit that our salvation depends on supressing our faculties of thought and living in blind obedience to the teachings of the Koran is un-Islamic—heresy, I daresay!

A tribe, after much toil and labor, and with fortune’s grace, grows large and powerful enough to construct an empire or to conquer an existing one. Once all internal and external threats have been neutralized, a period of peace and stability follows, during which the rulers indulge in the fruits of civilization. Consequently, they become weak in mind, body, and spirit—a bastardization of their virtuous ancestors. The state deteriorates over the years until another tribe of tough and hard men exploit its vulnerabilities and take over, and then the cycle continues. Such is the heartbeat of history whose pulse no society has ever resisted.

A paradigm shift in the intellectual approach of the collective conscious needs to occur for Dar al-Islam to sustain itself and expand. That is the task of our philosophers; in the meantime, I must accomplish mine. Perhaps my success will ignite the first sparks of change in the minds of the masses, but I digress.

I shall continue to keep you updated on my progress in my next letters. Farewell for now.

Chapter Text

21 Muharram, 514 AH

What is time? Such is the question the greatest thinkers of humanity have been pondering for centuries, but none have come closer to achieving a comprehensive understanding of this universal phenomenon than the scholars of Islam.

Man does not possess the senses or faculties to grasp time in a complete and objective manner. Time appears to us as a succession of moments and events that ebb and flow like a stream throughout the course of our lives. We divide time into three categories: past, present, and future. In a perpetual motion, so to speak, the present becomes the past, forever lost and unalterable, while the future merges into the present, born anew to die in an instant at birth. Time—in its true form—cannot appear as such to Allah, for how could anything (cease to) exist outside of his sphere of influence as an independent other? Some of our philosophers have ventured to posit that Allah is time or, more appropriately, time is a mere manifestation of Allah—an omnipotent force to which the entire universe in all its grandness is predicated upon and subjected to.

I am not a philosopher. I am a practical man, a desperate man, but allow me to philosophize this once. Destiny is a concept that both Mu’tazilites and Ash’arites misunderstand. The notion of a fixed universe from Graeco-Ruman philosophers has deluded us into thinking that everyone and everything has a fixed, preordained fate, reducing human activity and ingenuity to naught. A careful reading of the Koran, however, suggests otherwise.

Every man, from the most wretched slave to the most cunning conqueror, possesses a degree of agency over the course and direction of his life. We have, after all, been bequeathed with the divine gifts of consciousness and free will. Our capacity to think and act at our own discretion is unparalleled in any other creature inhabiting the earth alongside us. Whatever constraints do exist on our creative freedom are imposed (for better or worse) by ourselves or our limited nature.

So what is destiny then? Words cannot capture her likeness in full, but she manifests herself in the different possibilities or paths open to the life career of an individual. Learned men, such as us, have access to paths that are inaccessible to others. The realization of one path or another depends, for the most part, on our choices and efforts. Based on these principles, destiny, as she relates to organized groups of individuals, from family clans to kingdoms and empires, should not be too difficult to comprehend.

At present, the Benashid Caliphate is destined to collapse. Our previous collective actions have set us on this current course to ruination and cannot be amended, at least not by our own faculties. The past still exists in an unadulterated form within the all-enclosing grasp of Allah and, therefore, as does a path on which the Benashids emerge victorious over the threats against them. This path runs parallel and concurrent with the one we find ourselves on as well as the innumerable others.

My friend, I believe I am on the verge of discovering the means to channel the divine and cosmic forces necessary for altering our fate. My team has uncovered several documents pertaining to a time ‘god’ named Xanatos, one of the many foreign deities to have been accepted into the Ruman pantheon. I do not know what peoples his initial followers belonged to, nor where they originated. In any case, once they had entered the fold of the Ruman Empire, the followers of Xanatos took root amongst the populace and grew in number.

Seldom did the Rumans in their entire history persecute a religious group, the Nazarenes being the most notable exception. The Xanatians appear to be another. In the letters between the ruling emperor (Drajan) and his governors during the period in question, Xanatos being a direct antagonist to the Ruman time god, Saturn, is cited as being the main reason for their persecution. Given the high degree of tolerance the Rumans have exercised toward other barbarian cultures and religions, I cannot help but wonder whether there is more about the Xanatians that disturbed them so.

Nevertheless, following the first round of persecutions, the cult of Xanatos seems to have been disbanded or wiped out entirely in a fell swoop. I have yet to find another mention of them in texts dating both before and after their most active years. Even in Drajan’s subsequent letters, the matter of the Xanatians is dropped as though they had never existed.

Long have I pondered the mystery behind the erasure of the Xanatians off the pages of history. I cannot help but suspect that they had transported themselves into an alternate timeline in which they realized their destiny of escaping the oppression of the Rumans. They could not have done so, of course, except through Allah, regardless of whom or what they believed such power to be vested in. I understand how far-fetched my inkling seems, yet the revelations of the Koran, in my mind at least, do naught but confirm it as a genuine possibility that is well within our means of realizing.

You may think I have gone mad. Maybe I am mad, as a matter of fact, but so was the Prophet Muhammad, whose message at first to the desert nomads of Arabia came across as delirious ramblings and had been met with violent opposition. The greatest, most influential members of humanity tend to be mad to a certain extent. How else could they possess the fearlessness and self-assuredness needed for challenging the existing state of affairs to give rise to a new world order?

I shall attempt to replicate the feat of the Xanatians so as to save the Benashid Caliphate from her peril. No other viable option is open to us, and we have not the time at present to search for alternatives. But fear not! I feel as though Allah himself has been the chief source of the epiphanies I have experienced as of late. Our fate rests in no safer hands than His.

Chapter Text

2 Rabi Al-Thani, 514 AH

My communications have been compromised. Most or all of the letters sent to and from me in the past month, including my reply to yours, had failed to reach their recipients. Mohammed, along with many under his employ, have been captured or slain. I have taken extra precautions to ensure the deliverance of this letter to you, for it may be my final one.

The attack on my messengers had been planned and coordinated no doubt. By whom remains the question. The Assassins seem to be the most likely culprit, but my suspicions go as far as to accuse the viziers, Omrahah’s political opponents such as the Imtaz, a few of my associates, and even my own wife.

Leylah, I am most suspicious of. We had a series of heated arguments within the past couple of months. After our last one, I felt as though a sheer wall of silence had fallen between us. She still carried out her duties as wife and mother but refused to exchange a word with me or even glance in my direction unless absolutely necessary. Lately, she has been opening up to me again. However, an air of cold dismissiveness lingers around her during our interactions; and when I look into those clever, twinkling eyes of hers, I fear something sinister is brewing within their dark depths. I would never go as far accusing her of working with the Assassins, though I cannot shake the feeling that she is involved in some sort of plot against me. If she becomes too much of a threat, I will have no choice but to take drastic measures.

I have yet to determine the ritual for jumping timelines. How the Xanatians had done it is a mystery soon to be uncovered. The scripture pertaining to the worship of Xanatos is rumored to be contained in a distinct black-blue, leather bound book with pages of black upon which runes of white ink are inscribed. The expeditions of the adventurers I dispatched months ago to explore the former territories of the Ruman Empire have thus far been futile, and I do not expect to hear anything substantial from them in the near future. I have resolved to concoct the ritual from scratch. If non-Moslems could have done so without the enlightenment of Allah, then what doubt should I have about being able to do the same but with His grace? I cannot say for sure when I will have it all figured out. Soon, I hope. And not a moment too soon.

Baghdad has been in a state of incessant turmoil since the assassination of Qazim last week. In case you have not heard, he had left the Grand Mosque following the evening prayer when someone who appeared to be a beggar approached him. Just as he reached into his pockets to give alms, the man drew a hidden dagger and thrust it into his chest repeatedly—at least twenty times according to some accounts. The perpetuator has been caught and claims his impoverished situation impelled him to commit the deed, but only God knows what his true motives and allegiances are. Such a brazen and brutal murder of a high-ranking official in broad daylight has shaken the caliphate to the core.

Although Qazim was one of my most staunch critics, he at least expressed his public and private resentment of me in a professional manner, never going as far as hurling personal insults or vulgarities. He was a man of principle, through and through, who attacked me solely on the basis of mine. With him gone, I fear that those with more hostile temperaments and violent inclinations will soon take direct actions against me and Omrahah. As the crisis continues to culminate, so do the vociferous crowds in front of his palace calling on him to step down from his post. Not that a change of government shall save us. If anything, passing the reins to conservative, fundamentalists like the Imtaz, who vow to enforce the most stringent version of Sharia law at the utter neglect and dismantling of Ijma, shall precipitate the calamity. I am sure the Assassins, the Turks, and even the Ayyashids are all eying the Benashid Caliphate as vultures a rotting corpse.

I must make haste. From here on, I will be devoting all of my time and attention to the task at hand until its completion. Afterward, assuming I am successful, my mind and soul are going to merge with those of my counterpart in the parallel timeline where the Benashid Caliphate realizes her destiny of triumphing over her foes. I must confess I am not quite sure what will happen to those not in attendance to see the ritual through. I reckon my mortal vessel in this timeline shall be erased once I have travelled to the other, but what of my past deeds and actions and the consequences thereof along with those of Omrahah and everyone else accompanying us? Should they be erased as well, then the course of history and the fate of the caliphate shall be unforeseeably altered for better or worse. Otherwise, the state of the world will be the same as it is now, just without me for guidance. Or perhaps everyone else in this timeline will be displaced into some random other…? I do not know. The knowledge lies with Him.

Because I value our friendship, I will send mercenaries to escort you and your family to Baghdad when the time has come to make the leap of faith. Even if you decide not to come (a decision I promise to respect), I shall still see you. That is, an alternate version of you, as well as an alternate version of my wife—or perhaps a different wife altogether. I have mixed feelings about parting from the Leylah I have always known. She has become a different person from the one I married those twenty some years ago. I suppose I shall not miss her much after adopting the memories of my parallel self… yet I am unable to say for certain. Did the moments we share together, however many times they have been replicated across the innumerable, co-existing timelines, not mean anything? Still, I cannot risk her jeopardizing my plans, not when I am on the verge of fulfilling them. My children, on the other hand, I cannot bear to leave behind. I intend to bring them with me. Convincing them to abandon their mother and come along will be difficult… but one thing at a time.

In case I do not get the chance to write or speak to you again, I bid you a fond farewell. I am eternally grateful for having had someone so wise and honorable as a close companion. I appreciate you risking your reputation and well-being to be my confidant. Our correspondence has been far more conducive in helping me maintain a peace of mind than you can imagine. For all we know, it may even be the only trace of my existence I leave behind. I pray that my gambit pays off for us all and Dar al-Islam. In Allah we must hold our faith.

???, 514-515 AH?

The Mamluks have revolted in Baghdad. Omrahah has been slain in his sleep, butchered by his own guards. The blood of his family and closest associates continues to be spilled.

By a stroke of luck, my children and I, along with a host of others, have escaped the city relatively unharmed. We are on our way to Sumerrah and hope to see you there. But make haste! We are being hounded.

Allah is great. Stay safe.

***
So concludes the correspondence. Doubtless most readers will take it to be nothing more than pure fiction. How could they not? Even myself as the author would be content and relieved if these letters could be proved, without question, as being conceived from the imagination. I am appalled by the heretical notions presented therein and my supposed association with such a morally ambiguous character whose faith teeters on willful ignorance…
Yet for these reasons I am inclined to think that the whole episode had actually occurred. My mind does not possess the creative capacity for producing such a blasphemous fantasy, and those who have read my works or held regular discourse with me can attest to this. Not to mention, the efforts of the Imtaz to censor all insinuations of the phantom memory of the Alayin only add credence to its legitimacy. Perhaps they are ashamed about owing their reign to the actions of an insidious hypocrite?
Who but Allah knows for certain? Whatever the case, we must not shirk from the truth however uncomfortable it may seem. If your faith is resolute then it shall not falter even in the face of falsehoods that bear the guise of reality.