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Question: Write the POV transformation story of the 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, medieval archery equipment (quiver, bow, and arrows) strapped around him, long and 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, the reader is now in a fantasy-esque wooded meadow and/or forest with a nearby elven village, where the elven reader lives), 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, having no memory of science, modern life, theory of evolution, etc, and only remember being an elf, realizing that he has always lived in a fantastical world created by gods, knowing every elven powers and weaponry (including archery), having lived in an immortal elven life in his home village with his elf wife, and among others). 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 completely losing/forgetting his own memories, personality, and language as a human (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 (she's happy to see the human reader turning into her brave husband and warrior elf) 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 his elven body and life (all in elven language rather than in English), 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), she is telling this new truth to the transforming (which the reader truly/completely believes), 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 before or during the transformation, and is also completely unaware that his transformation had ever happened), and he is happy that his life as a brave, adventurous, and faithful elf warrior (he enjoys being with his elf wife, whom he truly loves (and vice versa) and has married centuries ago, as well as having his companions who follow him, and he himself guided and supported by the gods) is his true and only 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).
As you found yourself wandering through the hallowed halls of the dusty museum, you could not help but be drawn to an old, forgotten corner. Amidst other relics of the past, a book, as gold as an autumn leaf yet as worn as a forgotten memory, caught your eye. Opening its pages, you were instantly swallowed by a blinding light. Suddenly, the world around you began to melt away. Your clothes felt different. The modern, comfortable outfit you wore earlier had transformed into a tunic, billowing pants, and long boots that reached up to your knees. Gazing at your hands, you noticed they had slimmed down, elongated, and held a firm grip on a worn yet reliable bow, a quiver full of arrows strapped over your shoulder. Feeling a soft breeze blowing across your face, you lifted your hand to brush an unfamiliar lock of hair away. You found it to be blonde, a shade you were not used to, and falling down your back in a majestic, graceful cascade. A sudden need arose within you to smooth your facial hair, yet your hand met bare skin. Gone was the stubble that always made your face rough to touch. With a shock, you touched your ears, now longer and more pointed. Your body was leaner yet powerful, your thoughts were sharper, and your reflexes quicker. Your voice echoed around you, resonant and ethereal. You stopped mid-sentence though, your words turning into wisps of elvish phrases. Your internal struggle came to a roaring crescendo as your human world crumbled and mixed with the mythical tales and ancient stories that suddenly felt so real. Try as you might, you could not remember your English language, the words and phrases disappearing from your mind like sand slipping through your fingers. "Guren glassui, mellonamin," a soothing voice reached your ears. "Your life as a mortal was a dream." Tears welled up in your eyes as memories of another life bombarded your senses. You could almost smell the crisp, forest air and see the twinkling elven lights as a sensation of warmth enveloped your body. A kind-hearted female elf stood before you, her hand gently wiping away the tears from your eyes. As your mouths met in a soft kiss, you found yourself recognizing her. It was your wife, her name echoing gently in your mind, her every smile and touch ingrained in your memory. "N-no!" you stammered, shaking your head to ward off these memories that were replacing your own. But your struggle seemed in vain. You were losing yourself, bit by bit, sinking into a reality that was consuming you. With her comforting hand on your cheek and her lullaby softly playing in your ears, staunching the chaotic whirlpool in your mind, you found your resistance weakening. Her words were a balm on your transforming soul. "Your life as a mortal was a dream, my love," she said again, and you knew she was telling the truth. You were an elf, living in a land of magic and beauty. And the woman holding you was indeed the eternal love of your life. The last vestiges of your humanity faded, yet it felt like a burden lifted. Somehow, you were home. You were an elf, an elevated, peaceful, immortal being. And you had an adventure to embark on. Every night you gazed upon the starburst skies, feeling the thrilling mix of anticipation and peace that only the stars could bring. "Nin mélamin," you gently whispered to your beautiful wife while pulling her into a hug. I love you. You felt more alive than you had ever been, drinking in every moment of the adventurous Elven life that was now your own. It was in this world that you truly belonged. It was in this life that you were immortal. "Guren glassui, mellonamin." ("My heart sings, my friend.") The memory of a human life seemed like an echo from another time and space. You had embraced your destiny. After all, you were an elf, and nothing could ever change that.
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