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Question: Write a POV transformation story of the average male human reader turning into a fantasy elf complete with a tunic, a long flowing 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, much to the reader's horror, and he tries to speak English, but to no avail and all he said are elven words), 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 (she's the one who caused the book to transport the reader into a medieval world and transformed the reader 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, gently wiping away the reader's tears, 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 being guided and supported by the gods who created this fantasy world) 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).
You entered a museum, drawn by an echo of nostalgia, something old yet new, buried deep within the collages of history. Among many antiquities- priceless relics of time past, you laid your eyes on a thick misty tome titled, "The Chronicles of Ancient and Fantastical Realms." You felt a pull, an invisible force compelling you, directing you. Slowly you ran your fingers over its embossed cover, opening it with a relic-like reverent solemnity. A sudden burst of brilliant light engulfed you, filling the seemingly black void of the museum with boundless luminescence. You were enveloped, warmth traversing through your every nook and cranny, a shiver cascading down your spine as your surroundings warped, twisted, and converged. As the light subsided, you stood observing, now garbed in a series of unfamiliar yet significantly comfortable apparel. A tunic of rustic green, a flowing cape settling on your shoulders, medieval-styled pants neatly tucked under long boots, and leather gloves clasping your muscled arms. A quiver endowed with arrows was fastened, and a sleek bow strapped across your back. The invisible strings of your humanity were subtly, slowly tweaked. You felt the frame of your face morph, elongate, an odd sensation of being lighter, distinctively ethereal. Your ears felt sharp, pointy- the signature of the elf race. Your hair fluffed, flowing to meet your back, the mirror of glamour revealing strands that appeared almost golden in shade. Your brows, eyelashes a beautiful pale blonde that strung perfectly to your newly unveiled blue irises. Language that was a part of your core, English, began rustling inside, morphing into whispers of unknown but pleasantly familiar tongues, the alien syllables lacing your tongue without fumbling. "*Valanórë ye haryuva!*", you exclaimed in horror, attempting yet failing to speak human words. The voice from your mouth was not yours; it was smoother, tranquil, yet filled with authority—an elven voice. Emotions cascaded, waves of fear crashing as your memories morphed twisted, an overpowering presence forcing itself into your consciousness. The mental changes were terrifying; you screamed internally, cried for your past, your humanity, your stifling tears blending the reality with the surreal. "Shhh*, mellon*," soothed a voice gently. It was her- an elf, golden-haired and flawlessly beautiful. She held your hand, softly caressed your cheeks, her emerald eyes brimmed with love and worry. "*Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo* (A star shines on the hour of our meeting)," she consoled in fluent Elvish, stepping closer, her comforting presence growing like an invisible sanctuary around you. Her words, although alien, filled you with unexplored emotions, a calming sea that seemed to capture your frantic consciousness. Slowly as her touch lingered, your fears ebbed, your screams swallowed into the depth of your increasing calmness. You started resonating with her words. A sudden realization hit you. She seemed like someone you knew, someone...no, she wasn't a stranger, and she was your partner, your confidant. She was your wife. Your life seemed to be rewriting itself, previous memories replaced with a newer, much ancient past of battles, of valor, of love, of a life led among glorious woods and majestic creatures. Her lips moved again, words like tendrils slowly wrapping around your denial, controlling your resistance. "*Amin mela lle*. Your human life...it was just a dream. Please remember your life, your true life." A surge of emotions crashed onto you, the tidal waves of acceptance washing over the remnants of your human memories. You believed her. It all made sense now. The elven blood in your veins sang songs of valor, of age-old wisdom, the rhythm replacing your human heartbeat, configuring the mortal entity into an immortal warrior elf. Your transformation was complete - you were reborn in grace, beauty, and eternal youth. And, most importantly, this was your truth. You would live as an elven warrior, guided by deities, surrounded by mythical creatures, in a world crafted by divine fantasies; you were a part of this miraculous tapestry, etched into the very fibres of this world. Through the gaze of your beloved, you acknowledged the comfort in this truth. It was irreparable, irreversible. You were never a human; you had always been an elf.
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