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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 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), 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 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 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).
Amidst the hushed halls of the museum, you find a book, whispering promises of lore and power. Curiosity piqued, you dust off its ancient cover and crack it open. The world as you know it shatters, shredded by a blinding light. Your jeans become medieval-style trousers, ballooning out elegantly over sturdy boots. A fine tunic of deep forest green replaces your sweatshirt and a thick cape of wool forms around your neck. Smooth leather gloves replace the smartphone and wristwatch in your hands. A strange feeling sweeps over your skin. You touch your face, discovering that your rough stubble and beard have vanished entirely, leaving your skin as soft as a child's. Your fingers trail up towards your ears and a gasp escapes your lips as you feel sharp points where your rounded ears used to be. Your body, once sturdy and solid, feels lean, yet no less powerful. Your eyes, once brown and earthy, fade into a vivid, clear blue. Sparkles of light dance in the edges of your vision. As your hand comes away from your face, trails of blonde hair, straight and silky, tumble down your shoulders. Helplessly, you grasp your head as a whirlwind of new sensations threaten to topple you. Feeble gasps of English are replaced by fluid sounds, melodic and completely foreign. Panic swells within you, as English—the language you've known since birth—vanishes from your tongue, replaced by the flow of an alien language. "You are afraid, I see. The song, the changes, it can terrify the bravest soul," a melodic voice offers comfort. A woman emerges, ethereal and beautiful, cloaked in the comfort of dappled sunlight. She speaks again, her voice a whisper in the wind, "*Thand gwaith nauthant nín, e ant wath nín dartha.*" (Brave one, do not fear, I am with you.) Her words, incomprehensible just moments before, now make perfect sense. She gently kneads her fingers through yours, her touch warm and welcoming. She scoops you into a tight embrace, pressing her lips gently against yours in a chaste kiss. The stranger’s eyes, so full of ancient wisdom and love, meet yours and understanding blooms in your heart. She sings softly an elven ballad, one that tells of courage in the face of adversity. Your mind resists, tries to hold onto your human identity, but the push of elvish memories is relentless. Memories of archery training, of wars with goblins, of the first time you saw this woman, the first time she kissed you, the first time you called her "wife." She’s always been 'yours', you realize, and you've always been 'hers'. In her restful arms, your transformation completes. You have become an elf. Forgetting your past, forgetting your worries, your old self disintegrates. It's as if you dreamed of being a human, and now you've awoken from that dream. Despite the fear and confusion, contentment washes over you. This world, these people, this woman— they are your reality. You are an elf, forever youthful, forever at peace. "*Caro melon nin, pigen estel, pen beriathan…*" (Hold my hand, do not lose hope, brave one...) she whispers, her lullaby sweet and comforting. At once, your desperate struggle to remember your former self stops. With one final sigh, your transformation is complete. All that remains is an eternal existence of peace and warmth, an elf secure in his love, life, and identity.
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