Tales of a Warrior: It's about the journey

By Steven Rueberer

With his book , Tales of a Warrior, Steven Rueberer takes us on a masterful ride through the dream we call life, using the world of martial arts as his canvass. I was struck by the magnitude of his work, including the many carefully chosen quotations from our greatest minds, and how he puts them all together within a story that is always leading the reader toward truth and enlightenment. I highly recommend this entertaining and important book. After you read it you’ll be a giant step closer to your goal.
Gary Renard, the best-selling author of
The Disappearance of the Universe trilogy.



Steven Rueberer is a student of the Mystical Sciences and Kung Fu Master.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Éditions Ariane
• Release date: Jan 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9782896266050

Steven Rueberer

Steven Rueberer is a student of the Mystical Sciences, Kung Fu Master, and author of Tales of a Warrior.

Book preview

Couverture

Master Steven Rueberer

Tales of a Warrior

It's about the journey

Ariane Éditions

Tales of a Warrior

© 2021 by Steven Rueberer

© 2021 Ariane Books

C.P. 183, Saint-Sauveur, Qc, Canada J0R 1R0

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email: [e-mail]

Website: www.editions-ariane.com

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any mechanical, photographic or electronic process, or in the form of a phonographic recording; nor may it be stored in a retrieval system, transmitted or otherwise be copied for public or private use, other than for ‘fair use’ as brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews, without prior written permission of the publisher.

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

Interior design : Carl Lemyre

Cover design : Steven Rueberer

ePub conversion: Carl Lemyre

ISBN pint : 978-2-89626-604-3

ISBN ePub : 978-2-89626-605-0

ISBN iPdf : 978-2-89626-606-7

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We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund (CBF) for our publishing activities.

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book to God

and all who are brave enough

to follow the road less traveled.

Steven Rueberer

Introduction

The Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Lao Tzu

Sitting on the mat in his dojo, a boy watches his new master take down an advanced instructor. Loud crashing sounds on the mats, the floor shaking, the atmosphere thick with battle, and a new warrior is born. Becoming a master of martial arts would now become his Life-Path.

The boy trained diligently with different masters learning many styles of martial arts:

Tai Chi which is a set of slow, continuous movements based upon the principles of shifting one’s weight while keeping the body stable and upright.

Wing Chun considered to be the most lethal and efficient form of Kung Fu passed down by the Buddhist nun, Ng Mui.

Chu Fen Do, or the Way of Pain, an intense system of martial arts.

Harakido, or the Way of Balance; a Muay Thai and Brazilian Jiujitsu fighting style.

Lastly, Iron Wing - a secret style only taught to the highest level of seekers.

As the young warrior began to mature, he realized that he had other gifts as well. At times he could predict future events through his dreaming and even in his waking state. He was able to stop unpleasant events from happening, as well as dreaming of certain people and then meeting these same people years, days, or sometimes just hours later. At other times his dreaming body would step out of his physical body and he would observe himself in training.

While dreaming he could wake himself up just enough to reach over to his night table, grab his tape recorder, and record his dreams while continuing to live the dream.

At other times he could fly in his dreams while aware that he was dreaming and then take control of his dream, in a sense, become the creator of his dreams. He became a healer whose powers were beginning to unfold, at times predicting health remedies through his dreaming, at other times healing people with his touch and sometimes with his thoughts.

In some instances he would meet his teachers while dreaming, and then discuss the dream with them the next day. Eventually he began to teach the art of Kung Fu and how to fly in dreamtime, emphasizing that faith is one of the key ingredients to become airborne. At other times he would be visited by great masters who had passed on and who stopped by to encourage him and share their peaceful influence. This would happen in the waking state as well.

The warrior became so proficient with his dreaming body that he could at times appear before his friends while his physical body would be elsewhere. Sometimes he could hear the voice of angels guiding him. He learned to live according to the warrior’s path knowing that the only path worth following is a path with heart. This is the true story about how a warrior came to be.

Guardian Angels

You will not break loose until you yourself forge the chains that bind you.

Gary R.Renard

Stavros’ dad decided to take his four year-old tyrant along with him on his daily routine. One of the stops was the Laurentian Bank on Dorval Avenue, a busy street in the city of Dorval. Stavros was standing next to his dad who was conducting his business with the teller. Stavros turned to look out the window. The sun was shining above and he felt he could reach it if he could get close enough. He left his dad’s side and ran out of the opened doors and onto the sidewalk. He was about to take his next running step into the busy street when he felt something grab him by his shirt and pull him back onto the sidewalk. At that instant a blue car sped past missing him by mere inches. He looked up to see a dark-haired man with a beaming warm smile and glowing eyes which pierced right to his soul. Stavros’ father realized that his son was no longer by his side and came charging out of the Bank to find him standing by the curb all alone and as happy as the sun itself.

Who was this dark-haired man that stepped in to save the day and how did he disappear? Stavros still wonders.

Chris Shields

"It’s all God’s will:you can die in your sleep,

and God can spare you in battle."

Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

Every child has some kind of hero or role model who contributes to their development as they grow up. One such role model/hero was a young man by the name of Chris Shields. Although he and Stavros were on the same swim team, the Surrey Sharks, Chris was a few years older than Stavros, and that made a huge difference in the groups they hung out with. Stavros was racing against the ten year-olds, while Chris was raking in all the gold medals from the thirteen year-old division. Everyone knew that there was nothing to worry about when you had Chris on your side. Stavros and his friend were winning meet after meet all summer long.

One day Chris fell out of a tree and broke his arm badly. Everyone on the Sharks’ team knew that they were most likely going to lose all the swim meets for the rest of the summer. As far as Chris was concerned, a broken arm was not going to stop him from saving his team.

Saturday afternoon and you could hear the silence overtake the crowd as Chris stepped up on the speed box with a cast covering his arm. Stavros knew then that his team was going to win. The other five competitors did not seem to be too worried seeing that Chris looked to be in pretty bad shape. Stavros was the happiest kid when he witnessed his hero completely annihilate his competition by half the length of the pool, winning the meet once again for his team.

A few years passed and Stavros was now beginning junior high at a French immersion school by the name of Jean XXIII. On the other side of a six-foot fence was the English High School, Dorval High. In the eighties, in Montreal, Quebec, there were many language wars between the French and the English and there was always trouble between the two schools. Chris was part of the English side. He was now seventeen years old and respected by everyone except for a few French delinquents.

One day the French gang climbed over the fence and walked over to the English side to steal their long sitting bench. Stavros watched as all four of them proudly carried the stolen bench back to their side. It took all four of them to get this bench over the fence. Once over, they gathered their friends around to tell their tale. They seemed to think that they were really cool sitting on their new bench smoking cigarettes and laughing at the English. Stavros noticed everyone becoming silent, the French gang were staring in the same direction.

Walking towards them, like the fearless warrior that he is, came Chris. All by himself, no gang backing him up. He placed one hand on top of the fence and hopped over it. He headed straight for his bench. The French gang surrounded him, Stavros went and stood by his friend’s side unsure of what to do. Until that point in his life, every fight he had was a fair one. Never four against one and a half.

Stavros had never fully realized what tough was until, before he knew it, Chris had knocked out one of the French boys. The other three quickly sat down on the bench thinking he won’t be able to pick it up if the rest of us sit on it. That was a mistake. Chris seemed to have super human strength. He effortlessly lifted one end of the bench up over his head and all the tyrants slid and fell off. Not one stood up to him, the fight was over.

Chris then picked up the bench as if it were light as a feather, placed it on his shoulder and walked back towards his turf stopping only at the fence to toss the bench back over to the English side. He then placed one hand on top of the fence and effortlessly hopped back over, calmly and humbly returning the bench to where it belonged.

Not long after this event, Stavros had a dream where Chris came to see him. In the dream Stavros had been standing on a darkly lit street. Approaching him from a distance came Chris, a smile on his face, his eyes shining. He offered his hand to Stavros and telepathically told him, I will always have your back. Stavros woke up to the news that his friend Chris had died in a car accident.

Several years later Stavros had been invited to listen to a psychic medium who had confirmed to him something that he had already known. She told him that he was under constant Guardian Angel protection, and that this Angel who was protecting him was a handsome young man that Stavros knew who died in a car accident several years earlier.

Ouija

The aim is to balance the terror of being alive with the wonder of being alive.

Carlos Castaneda

By the age of fifteen, Stavros had already been in many physical confrontations. He was a tough kid and seemed to be the one that everyone would run to for protection. His reputation as a formidable opponent was growing faster every day. He formed a powerful gang of about fifteen loyal, hard-core delinquents which he named The Dragons.

The Dragons were the most feared youth gang in the neighbourhood and were ready to throw down on Stavros’ command. Don’t get me wrong, Stavros was not all bad. He was kind to animals and protected the innocent. Some people have described him as the dark angel. Dark angel...I would agree. You see, as a child, Stavros was taught to use a ouija board and played with the dead on a regular basis. His favourite thing to do was to invite non-believers to his home and turn them into believers.

One method he used was to spell out the names and birth dates of people related to the visitor. One time I witnessed him spell out fourteen different peoples’ names with their coinciding birth dates for a young lady friend of his who was unsure of his gifts. He couldn’t possibly have known or memorized those names and dates, and I saw that he had finally earned her confidence when she began to cry. She was clearly shaken and asked him to stop.

One night Stavros, his sister Carrie, (the first person to introduce him to the ouija board) and Vince (a good friend and martial arts partner of his) along with a few of his new friends were gathering for a seance.

Carrie placed the ouija board on the floor and sat cross-legged in front of it. Stavros laid down on his stomach, his two friends positioned themselves opposite Stavros, one sitting cross legged, the other laying on her stomach, mimicking Stavros. Vince was sitting cross-legged to Stavros’ right, and focused to write whatever needed to be documented. Let the gathering begin! Stavros said lightheartedly.

Carrie then began asking the spirit world if there were any spirits with them in the room. She asked two or three times and on the third or fourth attempt, a dark shadow-man appeared standing over one of his new friends. Since she was lying down on her belly, Carrie did not see him. Stavros looked up at the black shadow smiled, acknowledging it, and under his breath whispered, cool!

Stavros waited enthusiastically for the others to notice this big, black, shadow-man who happened to be wearing a top hat and cape. It did not take but a second or two before Carrie looked up and saw it; then everyone saw it. The girls panicked and ran out of the house screaming.

I have seen several people run out of Stavros’ house, sometimes barefoot in snowstorms screaming while, Stavros with his mischievous smile, would stand there laughing. And with a casual look, he would ask. Do you think they believe me now? Or Do you think they will be coming back any time soon? You would think that it was the funniest thing he ever saw.

Fiendies Handmade Ouija Board

The Gathering

Ah, yes, superstition: it would appear to be cowardice in face of the supernatural.

Theophrastus

One of these unfortunate souls was a street kid who went by the name of J.C. This kid was an even bigger trouble maker than Stavros, but he was loyal. Stavros liked his style and offered him a place to sleep for a couple of nights, but it would be at his own risk.

J.C. had no other place to go and accepted. Where are we hanging out tonight? J.C. asked. We’re having a gathering at the tower Stavros replied. The tower is an actual military barracks and lookout tower built in the mid 1600’s on the historic site of a large massacre that took place between French military, the settlers, and the Iroquois. It stood about one hundred feet tall and was hidden in the middle of a haunted forest where the spirits of those slain in battle still wandered.

As you enter the forest there is an old wooden shed with the words BEWARE painted on it in blood red, and No Trespassing. Stavros and JC arrived at the meeting ground with their girlfriends around eleven pm, just before what Stavros would call the witching hour. Stavros’ friends were there waiting for him to lead them through the pitch black forest that gave off strange noises. It felt and sounded like there were people running on the grounds, branches cracked at the weirdest moments. Everyone was in heightened awareness as they hiked towards the tower.

There must have been a dozen kids with Stavros. It was going to be a party. He told them to gather around and prepare themselves mentally because the night was going to be magical. Stavros, with his ouija board in hand, lead the pack through the haunted forest and towards the infamous tower. He knew that this particular forest was alive, and that he had to be very careful for it could easily swallow up any one of his friends at any time. It was a chance these rebels were willing to take.

At the foot of the tower Stavros signalled to his tribe, and instantly all of the kids rushed to climb it. There was a full moon. Stavros set up his ouija board on the top deck of the tower. He was planning on manifesting a spirit and prove once again to another skeptic named Ricardo that ghosts are real. Well, it came to no one’s surprise, except Ricardo’s, that Stavros succeeded. Within minutes Stavros had summoned up the spirit of a French soldier right before Ricardo’s eyes. I have never seen anyone’s eyes get so big, so fast Stavros said to Ricardo as he celebrated another successful night.

The party wound down and it was time for sleep. Stavros guided his friends back out of the highly-charged forest. Clearing the forest, Stavros turned to see if anything was following them, and noticed the shadow of a very large and powerful Indian warrior in spirit form standing in the moonlight about twenty feet in the distance staring right at him. This particular spirit radiated unconditional love, wisdom, and respect. This apparition meant a lot to Stavros.

Preparing for the drive back to the city, Stavros realized he had forgotten his frisbee on the top deck of the tower. He courageously stated that he would be right back, he also sensed that the forest knew that he was returning, and that this time he would be alone. He had an uneasy feeling. J.C., being the good friend that he is, offered to come along. They walked briskly through the forest and climbed to the top of the eerie tower. Glowing in the moonlight was Stavros’ frisbee. They grabbed the disc and headed back down.

Stavros felt the presence of something evil and told J.C. to run. The entity began chasing both of them. It was funny to see the two of them running out of the forest. The most impressive part was when Stavros stopped running and turned towards the forest waiting for whatever was chasing them to catch up. The forest then spoke in the most inhuman, angry tone: COME HERE! As if there were a speaker blasting from every tree. J.C. and Stavros exchanged glances confirming that they both heard the same thing, then turned and ran like two