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Question: Write a POV transformation story of an average male human reader turning into a fantasy elf complete with a tunic, a cape, long boots, leather gloves, pointy elven ears, thin and lean yet athletic body, handsome and ethereal-looking face, no facial hair on the lower half of his face (he keeps his eyelashes and eyebrows however), pale skin, beautiful blue irises in his eyes, and long blonde hair (not a Christmas elf, fantasy elf) complete with age change, supernatural powers gain (including but not limited to being immortal and forever youthful), language shift (changing from English to an elven language, yet the reader now completely understood this new language whilst no longer remembering English), reality change (the reader's real world warping and becoming the fantasy medieval world), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personality and memories replaced with an elf's personality and memories, despite his best efforts on fighting off the new memories and personality, making him completely forget about being a mortal human and only remember being an elf). The transformation is permanent (meaning it is forever) and is completely irreversible. The story is that the reader was visiting a museum containing very old books and other historical artifacts, where the reader finds a book that is all about medieval fantasy creatures, he then opens the book, causing the blinding light to engulf him and thus caused the whole transformation to occur. During the mental changes, the reader is truly terrified/horrified about losing his own memories and personality as a human (as well as forgetting his previous language), so he tries to fight against the new memories and personality (even screaming for help from his family/friends, crying out in tears, as well as attempting to shake his head as an attempt to get rid of the emerging elven memories/personality), but his mental fight is in vain, making him completely forget his mortal and mundane human life and he only remembers being a medieval-era elf (complete with a new name fitting for an elf, rather than an old human name he once remembered having). To aid in the now-elven reader's transforming mind, an adult female elf from a nearby elven village (who caused the book to transport the reader into a medieval world and transformed into an elf himself) comes up to the reader and comforts him with a gentle hug, an affectionate kiss, quietly singing an elven lullaby to the reader, and telling him to remember who he really is (an elf), making the reader realize that the elf woman comforting him is his caring, understanding, and loving wife (whom the elf reader truly loves, cares, and understands, having always known her), and the reader is genuinely happy to know that his previous human life was only a dream (he is completely unaware of ever being a mortal/human) and is happy that his life as an elf (he enjoys being with his elf wife, whom he married centuries ago) is his only true life. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking. Not only that, but there should be quotes in elven language (as well as the translations for those who don't know what those elven words mean), even the reader's language shift during his panic, as well as the lyrics to the lullaby that the elf woman is quietly singing to the transforming reader, so we would know what lullaby the reader is hearing/listening to. Also, it is a POV reader story, so it should not be in an author's point of view (my, I, mine, etc), and it should be from the point of view of the reader (you, your, etc).
Your heart flutters at the sight of the old, dust-coated book laid in a museum's display case. Your fingers itch to trace its unknown history. When the curators finally allow you to handle it, reverent and gentle under your touch, you turn to a random page. As you do, a blinding light wraps around you, a gust of wind ripping from the book like a tornado. There are words being whispered in your ear, a language foreign and forgotten. Fear spikes through you. You pin your eyes shut, your cries for help drowned in the chaos. When your eyes slowly peel open, the museum is gone. Its ancient fabricated walls replaced by a lush forest, shadows dancing under the silver light of the moon. You stand on a dirt-streaked path clad in a forest-green tunic, your body wrapped with a wine-red cape. A pair of sturdy leather boots, the hems of your gloves smelling strongly of oiled leather. A strange lightness makes your head spin, an ashen nimbleness you've never associated with your average human body. The elven skin is porcelain, your body is lean yet athletic. With a trembling hand, you feel your ears. They're pointy. Long blonde hair cascades down your back, your eyes holding the color of the cloudless summer sky. Your throat feels parched, any recollection of English disappearing with the wind, replaced with a language you've just become familiar with. The Elvish words roll off your tongue, the sweet cadence of the language echoing in the quiet forest. It sounds beautiful, yet you squeeze your eyes shut, your mind desperately clawing at its disappearing past. "Uma ne yeta alatanya, carnen i norë yéuva," you utter in a voice that doesn't sound like yours. *(I do not want to forget, I loved my earlier life)* Your heart thuds against your rib cage, your memories slipping away like sand although you try to grip them tighter. Images flash across your eyes - a birthday party you had as a kid, your mother's smile, your first car. And then your mind fills with memories of magic, of centuries-old battles, of love, of dancing under the full moon. You want to scream, to fight off this intrusion into your mind but your voice is strangling you from the inside. "Manna napala?" A tender voice floats towards you. A woman with penetrating green eyes, her sun-colored hair tumbling like a waterfall over her shoulders, dressed in a sparkling emerald robe. She comes up to you, your hand trembling in hers. *(What matters most?)* Her arms wrap around you, warmth and love radiating from her skin. She tucks your head under her chin, a soft lullaby seeping into your ear in her melodic voice. "Lye anta amin mela, ah ilúvatar nostalyë." *(We give our love, for the creator made you)* Her lips press against your forehead, her gentle whispers basically telling you, "This is who you truly are... an elf". Suddenly, the thought doesn't seem so terrifying anymore. The love in her eyes, in her touch is too real to ignore. "You're... my wife..." you tremble out in Elvish, your heart heavy with a love you've always known and cherished. Happiness seeps through your veins, pushing past the unrest. For all that you've lost, forgetting your human life, it seems like a fair exchange for the infinite love you feel in your heart for this elf woman - your wife, for a life that now doesn't seem just a dream anymore but your reality - an eternal life as an elf.
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