In the endless sands, where the desert winds carried stories from one generation to another, lived a brave young Bedouin named Fahad. One quiet evening, his grandmother Alia finally decided to entrust him with a secret their family had guarded for centuries. She told him of the Shabka, a precious ancient relic once belonging to their ancestors and believed to bring honor and prosperity to its rightful keeper.

Long ago, when enemies threatened their tribe, Fahad’s forefathers divided the Shabka into several pieces so that no invader could ever claim its power. Each fragment was hidden in a different place across the desert, and the knowledge of their locations slowly faded as generations passed. Alia had preserved only a handful of old clues—mysterious verses, family legends, and memories whispered to her when she was a child. Fahad listened carefully, realizing that recovering the relic would mean restoring a forgotten part of his family’s heritage. At sunrise, with Alia’s clues safely tucked beneath his robes, Fahad mounted his camel and rode into the vast desert to begin the search for the lost pieces of the Shabka.

Let see what hints helped him to collect all pieces:


I have no walls, yet families stay, I cross the dunes and never remain. Beneath woven roofs, the fires burn bright, Travelers rest beneath stars each night.

No living soul is welcome near,
Ancient stones are sealed by fear.
Forgotten kings in silence lie,
While curses guard what gold may hide.

Rows of stones beneath the sky,
Mark the place where sleepers lie.
No songs are sung, no footsteps stay,
Yet countless names remember the day.

I once stood tall beneath the sun,
Now cut and shaped, my life is done.
In ordered stacks my brothers lie,
Awaiting builders passing by.

From distant lands my treasures came,
Each bears a scent, a hue, a name.
Some burn like fire, some sweetly please,
All gathered here from beyond the seas.

I show the roads, yet never roam,
I bear a key that names what’s shown.
I trace old blood from kin to kin,
Revealing where your line begins.

I promise fortune, yet nothing is sure,
A numbered chance may make you rich or poor.
Many enter, but few will claim the prize,
While hope and luck decide who wins the rise.

Just do it!

Beyond the roads where few have been,
I seek what others have never seen.
Through ruins, forests, sand, and stone,
I follow paths that are unknown.

I rise above the walls of stone,
Where precious gems are kept alone.
My chambers sparkle, floor to crown,
A jeweled beacon above the town.
Answer to Referendum question!

From Alpine lands I proudly come,
With foaming mug my tales are spun.
In crowded halls where songs grow louder,
I raise my stein with great pride.

I stand away from daily care,
A peaceful roof with time to spare.
Guests arrive when work is done,
To rest, explore, and seek the sun.

I guard small treasures beneath a shining skin,
Where hammered leaves of gold are pressed within.
My carved lid gleams with patterns rich and old,
Yet wood still hides beneath the precious gold.

Surrounded by books from wall to wall,
I guard their stories, great and small.
I know each title, shelf, and page,
And guide the curious, wise, and sage.


Beneath the castle, far from light,
I hide behind thick walls from sight.
With iron chains and doors of stone,
Few who enter leave alone.

to be continued...