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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 that his human life was just a dream (not real) and telling him to remember who he really is (an elf), also speaking in elven language, 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 actually only a dream (he is completely unaware of ever being a mortal/human nor the transformation that had happened) 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).
In the museum, you find yourself intrigued by an antique book about medieval fantasy creatures. Curiosity compels you to open it and out pours a blinding light, engulfing you. As the glow subsides, you feel different -- lighter, leaner, more attuned to your surroundings. A look at your hands reveals finely boned fingers, clad in soft leather gloves. You examine the rest of your attire, a fitted tunic in forest green, a cape, and your pants neatly tucked into knee-high boots. A quick dash to the nearest mirror stuns you. Young and ethereal, your face is borderline angelic. Your stubble is gone, and in its place, smooth, youthful skin. Crowned by a shock of long blonde hair, unfamiliar blue eyes stare back at you, framed by pointy elf-like ears. You are not human anymore. Panic sets in as your mind floods with new memories, completely at odds with what you knew. You were once an athlete scholar. Yet the memories of practicing archery and studying ancient texts of your people, the Elves, loom larger. The struggle to keep your human identity is futile. The more the old memories recede, the more elven you become - immortal, forever youthful, innately understanding the ancient language of your kind. Fear rises as English words turn into an alien language mid-sentence, fading out of your memory like mist. Desperate, you call for help, hoping your friends or family could reach you. But the language that escapes your lips is elvish, "Guren Glassûr, llie!" (Help me, please!). No matter how hard you shake your head or plead to the gods, the change continues. The museum starts morphing into a fantasy world; the concrete walls dissolving into lush forests, medieval structures and mythical creatures. Amidst the chaos, a familiar figure steps out from the shadows— a female elf, as beautiful as the first morning of the world. "Navaer, Aearon." (Greetings, Aearon.) The elven woman comforts you, her soft hand taking yours, her eyes gentle and kind. Is this your maiden's kiss? Is this... love? The realization hits you hard; she’s your wife. Your last human memory is that of tears sliding down your face as you fight the strangulating fear of losing yourself. That fear ebbs as your elven wife softly sings a lullaby, her voice a melodic balm. "Nîn mîr lín, ion-nîn. Ada-mellon, sêr síla lu lû." (Your world is here, my son. Father's friend, star shines upon you.) As the lullaby fades, she whispers, "Remember who you are, Aearon. Your other life was a dream, not our reality." Her words wash over you and, with a sense of profound relief, you accept the truth. You were an elf, are an elf—a soul reborn in the flesh of the past. And, that once upon a time human life? You comprehend that it was a dream, a long and complex dream from which you've finally awoken. Finally at peace, your last thought as a human is that the feeling is not horrifying but liberating. You let go of the slipping shards of your old world and embrace your new reality. The transformation is complete—you are Aearon, an elven warrior, husband to an enchanting elf maiden, living a blissful immortal life in a medieval fantasy world. And it couldn't have been better.
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