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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, 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), voice change (to fit with his new elven bloodline), 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. 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).
The room was filled with ancient relics and parchment pages, the stale scent of history clinging to every corner of the museum. You idly skimmed through the collection untill your eyes landed on a strange book titled “Mythical Creatures of the Medieval Fantasy.” Intrigued, you hurriedly ran your fingers over the worn-out leather cover before gingerly parting its pages. Suddenly, an intense blinding light erupted from the book, enveloping you in its luminescence. A foreign heat coursed through your veins as if a wildfire was blazing within. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt, but it did feel… different. You could feel your body changing. Your once average physique contorted in ways that you didn't think possible. Muscles lengthened, stature increased, skin seeming to bleach to an ethereal white, all whilst becoming pointed, reshaping into the elegant form of an elf. You abruptly realized your voice had shifted, too. Your voice, once deep and rough, was now light, lyrical, a melody flowing with a refined elven grace. You looked down at your oak-brown tunic, the fabric heavy yet comfortable; below was a pair of archaic pants that seamlessly tucked into elongated boots. Your hands were adorned with leather gloves, dexterous and mobile. It wasn't distasteful, quite the contrary, but it wasn't normal either. Your thoughts were interrupted by the chatter of elvish tongues. Unfamiliar syllables danced on your ears, yet for some odd reason, you understood them. Mid-sentence, your words shifted from English to an ancient tongue, smoother yet all the more alien. A strange feeling—on one hand, grief, of a language lost, and the thrill of a language gained. Suddenly, it didn't feel right. Your mind began to flood with memories that weren't yours; a war with goblins, handfasting to an elven woman, seasons of collecting herbs. It was a bombardment of foreign experiences that consumed your mind—the essence of being an elf. Fear struck you. Your human identity was slipping away. You screamed, calling out desperately for familiar names, only to have them fade into the abyss of your consciousness. "Lammoth lé, lammoth!" ("Stay calm, dear!") Your thoughts were cut with the soothing sound of a woman's voice. An elven woman, her eyes lustrously etched the most exquisite shade of moon-blue, her hair a cascade of spun gold, appeared in front of you, comforting you through the turmoil. She gently took your hands and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. "Erin lû e-govaned vîn," (This was just a dream) she whispered in elvish, stroking your hair soothingly. "You must remember who you are, you are Belthondor, my beloved." Her voice lulled you, her presence easing your trembling thoughts. Love flooded your heart, memories of your shared laughter, tears, and lifetimes of experiences bloomed in your vision. You realized she was your wife and you’ve loved her for what simply felt like an eternity. As your mind surrendered to the ‘dream,’ the now-elven world hummed with magical realism. The human life faded, leaving you an elven man who was happily in love, having known nothing else. Your heart swelled with gratitude - happier and at peace, knowing the human life was all but a figment of your dream.
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