Sacred Guardian & The Forbidden Knowledge

By Malia Z. Abidin

The djinns are mighty beings, humans are creatures of the mind, but the king's wisdom surpasses them all.

In the ancient kingdom of Wijawangsa, the king's rule is supreme, upholding the delicate balance between logic and superstition. But when King Mukarram succumbs to illness, the kingdom teeters on the brink of chaos.

Princess Nastara and her younger brother, Prince Alam, disguised as commoners, embark on a journey to understand the struggles of their people. However, their quest spirals into danger when they are captured by pirates from the Galamun Archipelago—practitioners of invincible knowledge, which embraces dark spirits from spiritual realms, a knowledge deemed forbidden in Wijawangsa.

A civil war threatens with the looming conflict against the Pertala Tribe with the High Council when a sacred weapon called Sang Gala Raja is missing. In a realm where power is corrupted beneath the surface of peacefulness, the princess uncovers a conspiracy that threatens her family and her kingdom.

This epic tale blends mystery, fantasy, and philosophical exploration, where wisdom, justice, and love clash against ancient forces. The kingdom of Wijawangsa stands as a beacon of hope, guided by duty and honour, as its royal family battles not just for survival—but for the very soul of the kingdom itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Malia Z. Abidin
• Release date: Jan 13, 2025
• ISBN: 9798227720603

Book preview

JOURNEY AMONGST COMMONERS

EVEN IN THE most serene times, storms could brew within the hearts of those who rule. Such a tempest descended upon the royal palace of the Kingdom of Wijawangsa. King Mukarram's strength had been a pillar of stability for the realm. Yet fate took an unpredictable turn, and the king's health began to falter. It started with a subtle cough, and soon it turned into a relentless ailment that drained his vitality.

The court physicians worked tirelessly, dedicating themselves to the task of alleviating the king’s suffering. Potions and incantations were meticulously crafted and deployed to restore the monarch’s vigour. Yet their efforts appeared futile. With each passing day, the king’s strength waned until he was confined to his chamber, leaving him nothing more than a shadow of the robust ruler he had once been.

As weeks turned to months, the kingdom faced an unsettling reality. In the face of this unforeseen calamity, the throne lay empty, and a regent was needed to steer the realm's ship through these turbulent waters. Although tradition and law dictated that the throne should pass to the crown prince, yet Prince Alam was deemed too young and tender for the burdens of rulership. Thus, Princess Nastara, the king’s eldest child, rose as the chosen one to bear the mantle of regency.

As the kingdom of Wijawangsa stood on the cusp of determining Princess Nastara’s regency, its governance was entrusted to the wisdom of the High Council, a group of men drawn from noble lineages and royal families.

It was during these trying times that Prince Alam's restless curiosity bloomed into a proposition. Amidst the sombre ambiance of the palace, he approached his sister.

‘Sister, what if we travel through the land ourselves? Just the two of us, dressed like everyone else. No council, no attendant, no guards to tell us what we can or cannot do.’

He paused briefly, turning to the window and rested his hands on the frame, gazing outside. ‘We could see how our people live!’

‘That is a very honourable thought, brother,’ replied the princess.

‘I want to understand their lives beyond these palace walls. It is the only way I can truly learn what it means to be their future ruler, do you not think?’ the boy pleaded gently, his eyes gleaming as he recited the carefully selected words.

‘Father will be very proud of you,’ she said.

‘It will be just for a day. Our realm has been safe since the time of our forebears. We should have nothing to fear.’

‘Let me think about it, will you?’

She was undeniably moved by her brother’s determination, yet a surge of hesitation tightened within her. The uncertainty of leaving the palace during such a precarious time, and the fear of the unknown, pressed heavily on her mind. Throughout their life, every decision had been made with the confidence that any risk could be easily managed. She knew she could not turn to the council for guidance; their priority was to protect her and Prince Alam, and that would mean keeping them safely within the palace walls.

She gently pushed open the ornate doors, and a familiar scent greeted her. A mild, delicate blend of floral sweetness that floated in the air, wrapping the surroundings in comforting allure. Subtle cinnamon lingered, teasing the senses, while citrus undertones infused a refreshing burst, held within the scent.

In the chamber, the king remained motionless, an unconscious figure yet bearing the lingering aura of his former authority, as if the essence of his rule permeated the air. Princess Nastara reached out, gently clasping her father's frail hand. She closed her eyes, seeking solace in the hope that, within his unconsciousness, he might feel her plea for guidance.

'Father,' the princess whispered, her murmured words were an entreaty to the silent ruler.

As the children of the king, every word they spoke, every conversation they engaged in, every glance exchanged, every meal consumed, every person greeted, and every garment they wore were under constant observation. They could not speak freely, nor express a thought that strayed from what was expected. Their smiles measured, their silence weighed, nothing escaped the watchful eyes.

Her mind swirled with conflicting emotions. The mere thought of leaving the palace, even temporarily, filled her with unease. But worst of all, what if her father's condition worsened? The thought was unbearable.

Time pressed on, and beneath all these concerns, her brother’s suggestion could not be ignored. The journey beckoned the promise of a deeper insight, a chance to truly understand the hearts and minds of those they were destined to lead. They needed to be ready.

‘Very well, Alam,’ she finally assured her brother. ‘We shall embark on this journey together.’

She wore a long-sleeved blouse that flowed to her knees, its fabric embraced the tawny glow of her smooth, radiant skin. She paired it with an ankle-length sarong adorned with intricate motifs of swirling tendrils and floral patterns. Another sarong draped gracefully over her shoulders and head; at times, she held its edge with one hand, letting it partially veil her face. Her beauty was undeniable, with dark brown, almond-shaped eyes that held quiet allure, a straight nose, and full lips that, when touched by a smile, could enchant anyone who looked upon her.

Meanwhile, Prince Alam’s appearance mirrored his sister’s modesty. He wore a loose-fitting, three-quarter-sleeve grey tunic with dark trousers. A plain cloth knotted around his forehead served as a tengkolok. The young prince shared his sister’s charm, though his deeper tawny skin bore the marks of long hours under the sun. His broad forehead and defined jawline resembled their father’s, while the rest of his features mirrored their late mother’s, shared with his sister.

The ox cart emitted a faint creak as they settled in. Overhead, stretched awnings with a roof made of dried palm leaves formed a protective, arching canopy. The princess cast a reassuring smile at her concerned maid.

‘Please take care, children,’ said Dang Anum, ensuring the ox cart man heard her. Then, lowering her voice, she whispered, ’Be safe, Your Highnesses.’

The princess and prince nodded and responded, ‘We will.’

With the harnessing of the two oxen, the cart jolted forward. Their strength commenced the steady trudge, pulling the cart along a path behind the palace. The robust wooden wheels groaned but rolled smoothly against the ground.

The cart moved beneath the gently swaying trees, their branches offering shade. A profusion of flowers dotted the landscape alongside the trail, splashing it in resplendent colours. A gentle breeze flowed pleasantly, while the steady plodding of the oxen’s hooves set the pace, accompanying their journey.

As the cart’s pace gradually slowed, Princess Nastara and Prince Alam found themselves at the heart of the Sepanji market. They stepped down from the cart and were immediately drawn into the energy of Sepanji’s commerce. Traders showcased their diverse wares, and their voices rose above the hum of the bustling marketplace. The market stretched endlessly, with rows of stalls brimming with a variety of items. Exotic fabrics hung like tapestries, catching the sunlight in dazzling displays, while the enticing aroma of spices from far-off lands wafted through the air.

Prince Alam was fascinated as he approached a group of children that had gathered. ‘Let them spin!’ exclaimed a young boy. Simultaneously, they released their tops onto the ground, setting them into a whirling motion. Tops of varying sizes and shapes spun energetically, each a miniature whirlwind of motion. The children's gazes remained locked on their tops, their fingers poised to intervene if needed. A collision between two tops sent a ripple of laughter through the gathering. The impact caused one top to wobble, its course uncertain. Meanwhile, two other tops met in a brief but spirited encounter, their movements a testament to the game's unpredictable nature. The children cheered as the tops briefly tangled before whirling off in opposite directions.

They continued to meander through the narrow pathways. 'I am famished,' muttered Prince Alam as his eyes caught sight of a seller surrounded by a crowd. He peeked between the shoulders and saw a woman ladling thick banana batter onto a banana leaf on a heated clay pan. She folded the ends of the leaf over the mixture. As it sizzled and turned crisp, she flipped it, releasing a sweet aroma of ripe bananas and grated coconut.

Prince Alam managed to wedge through the crowd and handed a coin to the woman. She took one from the fully cooked banana batter stack and gave it to him. Before he could bite, a sudden jostle from a nearby elbow sent it tumbling from his grasp.

He halted, staring at it lying on the ground. Before he could react, a boy nearby said, ‘You going to eat that?’

‘I do not think so,’ Prince Alam replied.

‘I would,’ said the boy.

‘It is soiled,’ the prince pointed out.

‘You are such a wimp! Hahaha!’

‘I am not a wimp! What is the matter with you?’

‘Why not? You will not die from it,’ the boy said with a grin.

‘I do not want to get sick,’ Prince Alam argued.

‘You are seriously a coward!’ The boy laughed again.

‘How dare you say that!’ he snapped.

‘Alam, it is time to go,’ Princess Nastara said. She gently pulled her brother away from the boy and led him forward.

Prince Alam followed his sister, fuming. ‘That boy!’

‘Do not let him bother you.’

‘I was not wrong! Who eats food from the ground? And did you see his clothes? He is not poor, so why would he act like that?’

‘Forget about him,’ said the princess. ’Not every action reflects a person’s need or character,’ she added. ‘Some act out of mischief, others out of ignorance. Still, he seemed like nothing more than a bully with idle time. Do not let such people influence your thinking.’

They chose offerings from another seller. Between bites, they weaved through the bustling market. Suddenly, unease tingled in Princess Nastara's instincts, a whisper of intuition, a flicker of awareness that someone was shadowing their steps. She leaned closer to Prince Alam, her voice barely a breath. ‘I think we are being followed.’

Prince Alam gave an almost imperceptible nod. ’I felt it too,’ he murmured. An unspoken agreement passed between them, and their pace quickened slightly. They continued exploring the market, their footsteps led them through winding alleys and past myriad stalls. The mysterious presence somehow appeared like a shadow that refused to be dispelled.

‘Who do you think he is?’ Prince Alam whispered.

Princess Nastara shook her head slightly, and despite the tendrils of fear swirling in her stomach, shielded by her naivety of street life, she said, ‘We should find out. Stay here, I will confront him. If things are not looking good, you run towards the palace and ask for help.’

‘What if he is not alone?’ Prince Alam asked. ‘Maybe we should both confront him,’ he added.

She drew in a steadying breath, her thoughts tangled in uncertainty, and led Prince Alam off the main thoroughfare, closer to a path that veered towards the palace’s main entrance. They approached a stall offering sarongs, its seller greeted them with a broad, welcoming smile.

‘Good day, fine young ones. Care to adorn yourselves with the finest sarongs?’ The seller crooned, waving his hand invitingly. Princess Nastara's eyes, however, were focused on the man. She discreetly observed as he lingered nearby, pretending to examine the displayed goods.

While Prince Alam kept the seller occupied with questions, Princess Nastara quietly slipped away, threading her way through the stalls. As she felt the unsettling presence drawing nearer, she turned into a quieter alleyway and suddenly spun around to face the man.

‘Who are you? Why have you been following us?’ she demanded, holding up a rugged piece of rock she had hastily grabbed from the ground. Meanwhile, Prince Alam moved silently behind the man, his rock held firmly in hand, poised to strike if needed.

The man raised his hands in a calming gesture. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am Radik, a palace guard,’ he said earnestly.

‘A guard?’ Princess Nastara asked, narrowing her eyes. ‘I do not recall seeing you before.’

‘I am assigned to the southwest gate,’ he explained. It was the back entrance they had used earlier, one they rarely traversed despite being born and raised in the palace. As Radik spoke, he slowly drew a keris from his waist and held it out for Princess Nastara to see. She recognised it immediately, its hilt and sheath, it was a keris bestowed upon the palace’s guards.

‘I see,’ she said as she lowered the rock. Radik nodded respectfully. Princess Nastara quietly exhaled in relief, absorbing his words and the sight of the keris.

‘Your Highness, the whole palace is aware of your and Prince Alam’s disappearance,’ Radik explained. ‘I have been entrusted with your safety, and I am accompanied by five of my fellow guards.’

Prince Alam, ever eager, interjected, ‘Perhaps we could use this chance to explore even farther.’

‘Where would you like to go, Alam?’ she asked.

’To the harbour.’

She mulled over Prince Alam's suggestion before turning her attention back to Radik. ‘Very well, then. I believe our journey will be safer,’ she acknowledged.

Having reached an understanding, the trio was promptly joined by five other guards, each dressed to blend in with the people of the realm. Radik introduced them one by one to Princess Nastara and Prince Alam, and together they made their way towards the harbour.

They passed a quieter section of a pier, where fishing boats bobbed gently against the water’s edge. The air was filled with the earthy scent of saltwater and damp wood. Prince Alam paused, his attention captured by a group of fishermen seated on low wooden stools, mending their nets.

One fisherman looked up and smiled, 'Do you like fishing, young man?' he asked.

'Yes, I do,’ Prince Alam replied, ‘but I have never tried it with a net this big. Do you always catch many fish?'

‘Yes, when the sea is kind,’ said the fisherman, ‘But the sea can be as fickle as a lady’s heart,’ he added with a chuckle.

‘Which waters in our realm do you usually fish in?’ asked Prince Alam.

‘All the shores around Wijawangsa,’ the fisherman replied.

Prince Alam’s eyes sparkled with excitement. He turned to his sister and asked quietly, 'Can we embark on a sea journey?'

‘Alam, I do not feel comfortable leaving our father so long.’

'We will be back before sunset. We have Radik and the rest to watch over things,’ said Prince Alam.

The princess took a deep breath, masking her reluctance behind a calm facade.

‘Please,’ he pressed.

‘Fine, let us inquire about securing passage on a boat,’ she gave in.

They approached the harbour master’s station, where a burly man with a sun-beaten face was scribbling numbers balancing trade and tides.

'Good day,' Princess Nastara began. 'We are interested in taking a sea voyage. Is there any available boat for hire?'

The harbour master gave them a long, scrutinising look. ’Sea voyage?’ he repeated, the corners of his mouth twitched into a scoff, as if the notion amused him. ’How many of you?’

‘Eight of us. We will pay for the boat,’ said the princess, offering a pouch of coins.

‘We hope to try our luck fishing in the deep sea,’ Prince Alam added.

‘Is there a ship available to take us out?’ Princess Nastara enquired.

The harbour master’s gaze shifted between Prince Alam and Princess Nastara, lingered briefly on the palace guards behind them, and then returned to the princess.

’You like fishing too?’ he asked.

’Have you never seen a woman fish?’ The princess replied.

He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. ’No, I have not. It is a man’s job. It can be rough out there.’

‘Perhaps you have not seen it because few have dared,’ she replied. ‘But I assure you, the sea does not favour men over women. We are prepared for the journey, rough or not.’

The harbour master barked a laugh, but his laughter soon dwindled when he realised no one else found it amusing. The others simply stared at him, their expressions blank, unimpressed.

‘Well,’ he said, clearing his throat, ‘maybe you can join one of the fishermen’s boats.’

Prince Alam smiled in excitement. ‘That is great, take us to their boat,’ he said.

The harbour master guided them through the quay, moving past stacks of rattan baskets filled with spices, rolls of woven mats, and clay jars brimming with salted fish. Workers manoeuvred around them, their bare feet slapping against the wooden planks, hoisting bundles of dried herbs or tugging at coiled ropes, readying the ships for departure. The sounds of hammers, creaks of timber, and the low hum of people’s chatter blended with the squawks of seabirds overhead.

At the far end of the quay, the harbour master finally paused and nodded. ’That one,’ he said, gesturing towards a ship tethered to a weathered piling. Its deck was a hive of activity as fishermen adjusted rigging, checking nets, and scrubbing the salt-crusted wood.

‘Captain!’ The harbour master called out.

A rugged man with deeply tanned skin and a sharp chin with a stern demeanour turned, he looked at the harbour master and then on the group behind him.

‘These folks here want to join you on your next fishing trip,’ the harbour master said. ‘Can you let them aboard?’

The captain’s eyes swept over the group, and he shook his head. ‘Sorry, I have enough men,’ he replied, his tone gruff but not unkind.

The harbour master bent down to address the captain, who stood at the stern of his ship. ‘They will pay for the journey,' he said. ‘More than enough to cover the trouble... I know it is a bit of a crowd, but your ship can manage.’

The captain crossed his arms over his chest, glancing from the harbour master to the group. ’Why do you all want to pay to be on a fishing ship?’

Before anyone could answer, Radik stepped forward. ‘We want to learn about the fishing trade. Perhaps we could learn from you how you work.’

The captain fell silent, considered their request. Radik continued, ’We will not be a burden.’

He regarded them for a moment, then said, ‘Alright, get aboard.’

‘Excellent,’ said Prince Alam with a grin.

‘Are you joining as well, young man?’ the captain asked.

‘Yes, Captain,’ came the reply.

The group stepped aboard the ship, and Princess Nastara followed. The captain raised an eyebrow as she crossed the gangplank. At first, he assumed she was the wife of one of the men who had come to bid them farewell.

’This is no place for a woman,’ he said. ‘The sea can be harsh, unforgiving. You would be better back on shore.’

Princess Nastara met his stare. ‘I assure you, Captain, I can handle the sea,’ she replied. ‘If your men can withstand it, so can I.’

‘There is no private quarters for a woman on this ship,’ he remarked.

‘Captain, if your fishermen have mothers and sisters, then they should understand the value of working alongside a woman and respecting her as they would their own family. And for those who are not blessed with a woman in their life, perhaps it is time they learn something.’

Nodding slightly, ‘Fair enough,’ the captain concluded. He turned and resumed giving orders to the fishermen.

They raised the sails, allowing the wind to carry them forward. The shoreline shrank into a blur, fading into the horizon, giving way to the vast cerulean sea. It sliced through the shimmering waters towards northwestern Wijawangsa.

The ship slowed as it reached the heart of the ocean. For a moment, there was stillness, the creak of wood and the soft flap of sails were the only sounds against the vast emptiness. Then, like a single breath shared amongst all aboard, the men sprang to life. They cast the large net, allowing it to stretch deep into the sea.

As the sun climbed, the ocean's secrets began to reveal themselves. Schools of fish, their bodies glinting like silver coins, glided beneath the surface. Princess Nastara and Prince Alam, sleeves rolled, joined the fishermen, grabbing the heavy rope, its coarse fibres biting into their palms. They pulled, the ocean tugging back. They heaved and strained, muscles burning as they panted.

One of the fishermen grunted, ‘Steady now! There is something in the net.’

‘Could be a log,’ muttered another fisherman.

They hauled the net up into the ship. It was a turtle, its flippers flailing as it tried to free itself from the wriggling mass of fish.

‘Poor creature,’ Prince Alam murmured.

The fishermen quickly set to work and disentangled it. Once the turtle was freed, one of the fishermen grinned at Prince Alam. ‘Young man, you think you can lift it back into the ocean?’

Determined, Prince Alam crouched down and wrapped his arms around the turtle’s shell, straining to lift it. His face turned red with effort, but the creature barely budged.

‘This is… a bit more of a task than it looks,’ he said, panting as his attempt was unsuccessful.

Laughter broke out amongst them. ‘Come now, let us give you a hand!’ the fisherman said. With a heave and push, they carefully lifted it over the side of the ship. The turtle slipped into the water with a splash, its flippers beating strongly as it swam