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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, smart, 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 loyal 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).
The scent of aged paper filled your nostrils as you perused the dimly lit aisles of the ancient museum. Your eyes landed on an old book titled, "The Chronicles of the Enchanters: Talking about Legendary Medieval Fantasy Creatures." Fascinated, you gingerly picked it up, the cover cool and weathered in your grasp. As you slowly opened it, a bright and binding light erupted from it, enveloping you entirely. The last thing you remembered was a brief, intense pain stabbing behind your eyes as you were abruptly blinded and then... nothing. When you opened your eyes, the world was different. The once dull and aging museum was replaced by an ethereal forest, the hues of green and blue intensified around you. Something was drastically wrong... or different. You felt taller, slimmer. Your body was lean, strong, yet incredibly graceful. Startled, you glanced at your reflection in a nearby stream. A handsome, ethereal face looked back. Your hair, once short and dark, was now long, wavy, and blonde, cascading down past your shoulders. Your normally rounded ears were now long, pointy, and surely elven-like. And your eyes... Your human eyes were exchanged for bright, enchanting blue irises. Looking down at yourself, your clothes had also changed. Your t-shirt and jeans were replaced by a tunic, cape, neatly fitting and stylish medieval pants, all protected by long boots. A quiver brimmed with arrows was strapped to your back, a finely crafted bow snugly fitting your grip, and leather gloves adorned your hands. You appeared completely like an elf you'd expect to see in a fantasy lore, not in a mirror of a common human. But the most shocking discovery was your newfound grasp over an alien language. What you assumed was English moments ago, had shifted into elven, a tongue you recognized but never learned. “Nur naa luume', anaralië?” ("Is it time, sunblossom?") You barely recognized the voice addressing you. It felt like your own, even the lilt and cadence of how you spoke, but it was mellifluous and musical now, vastly different from your regular voice. Suddenly, thoughts that weren't your own, memories foreign to your human brain, invaded your mind. You saw yourself clad in the same attire, fighting alongside other elves, the crisp elven air, the smell of the forest, an oncoming horde of goblins, a life you couldn’t remember, with people whom you didn’t know… yet somehow felt familiar. Tears filled your eyes, and you began to fight, wanting to remember your real life, your human life. You felt the tears trail down your face, the rough skin of your transformed hands wiping them away. You tried to call for your family, for your friends, but all that came out was an incomprehensible cry in the elven language. Your fight was futile. The grip of the new memories was too strong, consuming your past life. Suddenly, a gentle hand was laid on your shoulder, steadying you. Turning around, you found yourself wrapped in a warming, comforting hug from a beautiful elven maiden. “Amin mela lle, feanor.” ("I love you, spirit-of-fire.") She said, her voice rich with emotions, her blue eyes mirroring yours. She kissed you, a touch floating lightly on your lips. She then started singing a song, a lullaby in the same elven language which stirred memories deep within you. Like the fog lifting, a realization dawned upon you. You knew her. You loved her. She was your wife. Your human life was nothing but a fleeting dream, an illusion torn by the brutal bolts of reality. A feeling of calm washed over you, accepting your new reality. This was home. You were an elf, and you always had been. This life was undoubtedly, unquestionably, yours. The elven maiden smiled at you, recognition reflecting in her eyes. You couldn’t recall when the change happened or why, yet it felt unquestionably right. True happiness blossomed within you as you realized your supposed human life was just a dream, and you've finally awakened in your actual, fantastical life, forever in a body that felt right, in a world that felt like home, and with a wife whom you loved with all your heart. Face to face with your own reflection again in the stream, English words lost, human memories faded, you uttered confidently in elven, "Anaralië, amin naa feanor."("Sunblossom, I am a spirit of fire.") Your adventures as an elf were waiting, and you were more than ready.
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