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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, 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), 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), 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, 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 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 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).
The museum had always fascinated you: the remnants of ancient eras, diligently excavated and sorted, whispering ancient secrets into your eager ears. There, set among special encasings, a book caught your eye. It was ancient-looking, the air around it hummed mystically. It whispered tales of medieval fantasy creatures, something that always managed to get you excited. Temptation won over, and you stepped closer, opening the book, feeling the pages crinkle under your curious touch. The warmth of the museum was suddenly engulfed by a blinding light, radiating from the book. Your body felt light, almost weightless, as if it was no longer subjected to the mundane laws of reality. The first thing you noticed was your clothing. It had altered into an elegant tunic, the hem of a flowing cape brushing your calves. You could feel the leather of gloves and long boots, a stark contrast to your thin jeans and casual shirt. Shaky fingers brushed over your ears - they were pointed. Your reflection was startlingly different. A thin, lean and yet strikingly athletic figure stared back, an ethereal beauty etched into your handsome face. A cascade of long, blond hair framing a pale complexion and vibrant, magnetic blue irises, you were magnificent. You lifted a hand - your hand - but the reflection did not immediately imitate the action. You tried to call for help, for anyone, but your voice sounded alien to your own ears. The familiar cadences of English were gone, replaced by flowing, melodic words you oddly comprehended - elven. A desperate scramble for your memories, for your name, felt like trying to grip grains of sand. They slipped away ruthily, despite your desperate pleas, cries, and violent shaking of your head. Your life as a human was fading - replaced by an elf's memories, by a new name. Eolande. A soft touch on your shoulder startled you out of your panic, a soothing voice speaking in Elven, “Thelya amin, Eolande” (Calm down, Eolande). She was ethereal, a soothing presence despite the foreign situation. She comforted you - hugged you, her cool lips brushed your forehead, whispering into your ear, “Eolande, lye lamina…” (Eolande, you are loved). She held you gently, humming an ancient lullaby, “Lu' mela en' coiamin, Eolande.” (For I love you, Eolande.) The elf woman, your wife, was comforting in her presence, a touch of familiarity in a world transformed. A breadth of hundreds of years of memories began flooding back, of laughter and shared joy, a bittersweet promise of immortality. Your panic began to cease; after all, wasn't this better, happier; an existence spent with her, in a magical world filled with peace and serenity? The realisation of your new life dawned like a gentle sunrise; your human life began to look like a bad dream, a shadow of a world filled with cruelty. You embraced the elven woman, her words still echoed, “Lye lamina Eolande.” And you believed her. You were Eolande; it was your life, your love, your reality. Finally, you hummed the lullaby back to her, letting the shadow of the former life fade away into obscurity.
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