“The Hundred Guardians: A Legend of Alaminos”

Long ago, before any foreign ships ever touched the shores of the islands, there stood a proud and peaceful kingdom by the sea—Alaminos, ruled by the wise and brave Rajah Masubeg.

Under his reign, the people thrived. The rivers overflowed with fish, the forests with fruit, and laughter rang across the rice paddies. Guarding this peace were warriors trained from boyhood—swift, fierce, and loyal to the land. The bravest of them all was Datu Mabiskeg, the rajah’s only son.

Mabiskeg was a warrior of legend even in his youth—strong as the carabao, fast as the wind. But more than that, he was a man of the heart. He would lay down his life not just for his father, but for every farmer, fisher, and child in the land.

Then came the storm.

One evening, as the red sun dipped into the sea, smoke was seen on the horizon. Foreign sails, black as night, approached like a swarm of locusts.

A scout ran to the rajah’s palace, breathless with fear.

“Rajah, they come from beyond the sea—armed and many.”

Rajah Masubeg’s heart turned cold. He summoned his council. Chieftains, warriors, elders—they all gathered under the starlit sky.

“We will not let them set foot on our soil,” the rajah declared, his voice thunderous.

“We meet them on the water, where their fire cannot burn our homes.”

He turned to his son.

“Mabiskeg… will you lead our finest?”

“With honor, Father,” the datu said, placing a hand over his chest.

“If I do not return, know that I fell with pride—for Alaminos.”

That night, a hundred chosen warriors—each one ready to give his life—stepped into ten mighty bancas, their spears glinting under the moonlight. At the helm of the lead boat stood Mabiskeg, eyes set toward the sea.

They rowed into the unknown, vanishing into the black waves.

Then came the battle.

At dawn, the ocean erupted in war. Metal clashed with bone. Arrows screamed. Men fell into the deep with fire in their lungs. Mabiskeg’s voice roared across the water, leading strike after strike. The enemy was fierce—but the warriors of Alaminos were fiercer.

All day, the sea turned red.

Then night fell. Silence returned.

And with the rising sun, none returned.

Not a single banca drifted home.

But neither did the enemy.

The waters were calm. The threat—gone. The kingdom was safe.

In the palace, Rajah Masubeg stood on the shore, silent, proud, and broken.

His kingdom had won.

But his son—his only son—was lost.

A week later, as the first morning light washed over the sea, the people gasped.

Where once there had been only open water, now the ocean shimmered with hundreds of tiny islands—new, untouched, and rising like silent sentinels from the waves.

Some looked like warriors curled in eternal rest. Others like overturned boats, their wooden bones beneath the sea. The people wept and rejoiced.

“It is them,” whispered an elder.

“The gods have given them back—not as men, but as guardians of the sea.”

From that day forward, the islands were called “The Hundred Islands,” sacred stones watching over Alaminos forever—immortal reminders of sacrifice, courage, and love of homeland.

And if you listen closely when the tide is right, they say you can still hear the beat of a war drum beneath the waves, and the voice of Datu Mabiskeg calling his warriors to stand.

Base Reference:

Clark, Jordan (August 3, 2021).  “Deities, Myths and Sorcery of the Pangasinense.”  https://www.aswangproject.com/deities-myths-pangasinense/