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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 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). 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 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).
You breeze nonchalantly through a museum full of ancient artifacts from bygone eras, your interest piqued by some dusty, forgotten books. One particularly thick tome catches your eye; its worn cover adorned with exotic creatures of myth and legend. Curiosity piqued, you seize the book, opening it to reveal secrets hidden within its pages. As you turn the first page, a blinding light engulfs you. The first sign of change comes with an unexpected lightness spreading through your body. Your physique, once average, grows lithe and athletic. You feel your body getting lean, muscles acquiring a subtle elasticity. Something tickles at the sides of your head, growing sharper. You reach up to find a pair of pointy ears have formed, signalling a deep transformative process underway. Confused, frightened, your gaze drops onto your clothing. The typical jeans and t-shirt have yielded to medieval-style clothes. A tunic, a cape, neatly-tucked medieval pants underneath long, high boots. You feel leather gloves encase your hands. In the reflection of a glass case, you see your face has transformed, too. You are ethereal, strikingly handsome, with a strong jawline but no hair visible on your lower half, only blonde eyebrows and lashes. Panic sets in - you can't see any humans around anymore, only mythical creatures. The museum, the city outside, reality, as you knew it, morphs into a landscape of towering castles and expansive forests. Emerging from this new tapestry, however, comes a language so strange, yet so natural. Your cries for help, for the familiar, shape themselves into unfamiliar words in smooth, fluid sentences. "Erin dhocha - I'm terrified!" The language you once called English seems to just --slip away, replaced seamlessly with this melodic hue of communication. The pain hits next, not physical, but a mental onslaught. New memories, alien yet intensely personal, begin to override your old ones. You futilely try to cling onto your past, your identity, but the new memories are overpowering, overriding the familiar, the comforting. You call out to your friends, your family, tears streaming down your face. "Tyellë undulávë - it's changing! Can you not see?" But then your past-self trips, even as you struggle to retain it, and then it's gone. All gone. Ground zero. You’re not who you were anymore. In the midst of this anguish, a warm hand traces your tear-streaked face. She is ethereal, Virginia-eyed, full of tenderness. She sings soothingly, a lullaby in the Elven language. "Lye omenta hîr - You are safe, my lord." Her presence cradles your trembling reality; her lullaby, a salve for your fractured mind. Her familiar eyes bring solace, and you’re drawn in, forgetting the crushing emptiness for her comforting presence. Your heart swells with affection, love and intensity you have never experienced before. This woman, this elf, she is your wife. Her soft voice whispers to you again, "Amin mela lye - I love you," and it stirs familiarity in your soul. Your old life, your human past seems to make sense now. It was a dream, compared to this reality that seems so much more vivid, so much more real. You find yourself returning her whispered professes of love. "Amin mela lle - I love you, too." Despite once being a clueless and terrified human, you now find acceptance, find home in this strange new life. Your heart had been split open and filled with something you didn't know was missing, an entire culture, an entire life, an entire world. You breathe a sigh, your heart now lighter than before. For now, you are an elf, alive and real, as it should be. Forever.
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