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Question: Write the POV transformation story of an average male human reader turning into a fantasy elf complete with a tunic, a cape, medieval-styled pants neatly tucked underneath the 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, which are blonde like his head head now), 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 filled with mythical creatures such as elves, goblins (the elves' arch nemesis), dragons, and many more), 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 completely forgetting his previous language, with English instantly changing to an elven language during mid-sentence), 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/invading 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), having remembered his archery training, war with goblins, marriage to an elven woman, and himself being an elf. 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, softly holding the transforming reader's hands, an affectionate true love's 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).
As you stepped into the dusty corners of the museum, your eyes fell upon a book, ancient in appearance, and bearing a title that intrigued you, ‘The Ancient Lore of the Elvenkind.’ A sense of curiosity flared within you as you cautiously opened its timeworn pages. Suddenly, unfamiliar characters and symbols began to gleam brightly, engrossing you into a blinding light. Although terrified, you were unable to look away. A myriad of changes then seized your body, an ethereal transformation happening in real-time. Your physique started to morph; your body felt leaner yet stronger, not unlike an athlete’s. Glancing down, you took note of your new attire: a richly woven tunic, medieval-style pants tucked neatly into long boots, a billowing cape flowing gallantly atop everything. Your hands felt different too, now adorned with gloves fashioned from the softest leather. You felt a peculiar sensation at each side of your head. You touched the sides of your head, only to find two intricately pointed ears sticking out. Simultaneously, your face shape refined, your skin turned to a strange, translucent-like pale hue, and your facial hair completely disappeared. Your reflection, once familiar, was now alien and ethereal; a handsome elf looking back at you. Startlingly blue irises filled your eyes, ringed with blonde eyelashes while your hair cascaded, golden and beautiful, on your shoulders. Suddenly, the fear of intruding thoughts attacked you. Your head pulsed as memories and knowledge, not your own, started merging with your consciousness, like morphing clay. As your mind waged a war within, your native language started to shift, English words transforming halfway in your mind to language unknown, yet bizarrely familiar. You tried to resist, frightened by the enormity of your mind’s conversion. "ŷ dhysg, Thedrin!" you plead, your English fumbling awkwardly into a mellifluous language, even as your terrifying reality was taking shape around you, warping into an unfamiliar span of towering trees, mythical creatures, and slender-built beings. Refusing to let go of your original self, your humanity cried out fervently. “Dyfern agor! Help! Eilir, Naneth!,” yet, despite your desperate attempts, your pleas filled the air in strange syllables, unknown to your past self. Just as you were nearing the brink of mental disarray, a soothing melody reached out. A melodious voice sang, “Estelë ondolindë, fara no coiar lindë. Cala linwë, thûr sí gondolindë.”(Hope of a stone-song, leave all your singing trees. A light follows you, the eagle is singing.) A soft gossamer hand reached out for you, a beautiful elf maiden with compassionate eyes, her hair aflame with the sundown glow. She held your hand, murmuring reassurances as her eyes held an intimate recognition. “Mae govannen, Ailos, you must remember who you are,” She whispered gently. And suddenly, it was as if a dormant part of your psyche resonated with her. The face was recognizable, the voice was familiar, full of warmth and love. Your breath hitched; she was your wife, your beloved, in this new reality. As the wave of alien memories washed over you, sharper with every breath, your past began to recede. There were memories of a thousand battles, celebrations, weddings, births, all familiar and heart-wrenchingly dear. And her, she was always with you, your wife, Sariel. Surrounding world squeezed around you, compressing everything into perspective — you were Ailos, an elf, forever young, forever alive, your love standing steadfast by your side. Embracing the relief and joy, you smiled, the remaining vestiges of your past leaving you with a serene tranquility. You realized that the life you struggled to hold onto was simply a dream fuzzing at the edges, as the reality of being an elven, living in an enchanted world filled with love and immortality, was your truth now. Forever. In the midst of your grand revelation, there echoed a sharp realization within you: You were home. And as Sariel cradled you in her arms and kissed the fading human tears on your cheeks, you knew you didn’t need to fight anymore; you were home.
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