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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, 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're free from the stifling norms and obligations of an average office Monday, the museum that you now stand in, much more appealing than your beige cubicle. There's a hushed silence that hovers in the airy corridors, interrupted occasionally by the rhythmic clatter of your shoes against the marbled floors. One exhibit stands out to you: ancient texts and artefacts, centered around mythical creatures of a bygone era. Among them is a book which almost seems to glow, the gilded intricate designs on its burlwood cover calling to you. Curiosity tempting you, you reach out, feeling a strange electric charge beneath your fingertips. The moment you crack open the cover, a blinding white light engulfs you. As you squint against the sudden brightness, your body begins to change. Your ensemble, once a comfortable yet boring suit, shifts and rustles, transforming into an impeccable tunic. A silken cape drapes over your shoulders and your khakis are replaced by medieval-styled pants, neatly tucked into long, sturdy boots. Your hands, now outfitted with leather gloves, seem more dexterous, slender yet firm. Something tingles at the sides of your head, sharp points poking through your hair—ah, the infamous elf-ears. Next, your body seems to grow leaner, but you feel stronger, your muscles rearranging themselves into more lithe and agile configurations. Your skin grows paler and colder, like moon-touched marble, and you can feel your face structure changing, becoming more chiseled, sharp, and ethereal. All sensation of stubble from your chin and upper lip disappears, leaving your skin unusually smooth. Eerily, you can feel the changes inside you too. Your thoughts grow clearer, your senses sharper. Then, unexpectedly, you feel a tear roll down. A wave of sorrow for the life you're losing hits you. "Wait, can anyone help me...?" You call out, but your Ordinary English has transformed, without your realization, into an alien yet familiar language, softer, yet more intricately nuanced than English ever was. The panic soars as your memories start to blur, being replaced piece by piece with unknown yet strangely comforting ones. In your desperation, you try to cling onto the remnants of your humanity. It feels like standing at the shore whilst being whisked away by a strong current, your feet making ripples in the sand as you get dragged into the waters. You cry out, again, but your pleas fall on deaf ears. The world around you does not understand this alien language anymore. The stream of Elven words takes over your language, making English seem distant and strange. Then, suddenly, a familiar hand reaches out, offering comfort. A woman with features matching your own walks towards you. She sings a soft elven lullaby, her voice low and soothing, yet filled with an outlandish charm. "Be still, my heart. The night will be over soon,” she sings, and you feel a sense of calm washing over you. Your frenzied mind eases into quiet tranquility. Memories filter through, new but welcoming. Here in this wilderness of chaos, her presence anchors you, and within your heart, a forgotten emotion stirs - Love. Realizing then, the woman before you was never a stranger. This elf, with her soft voice and soothing lullabies, is your wife, a significant part of your new memories, your new life. It dawns onto you, acceptance replacing fear. That life was perhaps just a dream, and this, being an elf, with her, is your reality now, your truth. You finally give in, letting your old self go, merging completely and utterly with this new identity. Reality solidifies around you, this mythical world that you now belong to. You are not just a passive observer anymore. You are indeed an elf, living among dragons and goblins, and a loving wife. "En' estel," you tell her. I trust you, your voice vibrates in the ancient tongue. And in your heart, you know that this change, though permanent, can indeed make you happy. The old life, the old you, has faded into a dream, and you welcome the dawn of your true identity - An Elf.
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