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Question: Write the POV transformation story of an 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), 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, 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).
Visiting the museum was old routine for you - a bastion of comfort on dreary afternoons. Tucked away in a corner, you found a worn, ornate book called “Ancient Creatures of the Feudal Kingdoms.” You slowly turned its delicate pages, entranced. As you opened it, a blinding light swallowed your ordinary world. Slowly, in astonishment, you looked at yourself. Once slab-shouldered and stout, your body was transformed into a lean frame, sinewy and athletic. Looking down, you saw a tunic covering your chest, a whimsically flowing cape from your shoulders. Medieval-styled pants were tucked neatly under long boots. A quiver, bow and arrows were slung effortlessly over your shoulder. You instinctively understood how to use them though you'd never held a bow before. Fearful, you reached up to touch your ears, once round and soft. They were lengthened, pointed, utterly non-human. The whole world seemed different – the air was fresher, the grass greener, the trees ancient and wise, the sky clearer than you ever remembered. Your once average features transformed into something ethereal. Delicately handsome, with a sharp jawline, attractive cheekbones, and a straight, elegant nose. Your lips were chiseled, but soft, complementing a perfectly smooth face devoid of stubble. Your eyebrows remained, now a glowing blonde matching your long hair, which cascaded down like a waterfall of sunshine. Peering into a nearby creek, your eyes caught your reflection—they sparkled like mesmerizing sapphires. You felt your beating heart in your chest, but you were distinctly aware that you were no longer mortal. A surge of power coursed within you, granting you immortality, eternal youth, and potency beyond your wildest dreams. Trying to comprehend, you attempted to speak, but the English words turned into something else. “No, no, I'm human,” you thought frantically, even as “Elen sila lumenn omentilmo,” leaked from your lips. Panic set in, as your mind started to blur. English was slipping away, replaced by an Elven language you inexplicably understood. You cried out, attempting to shake off the emerging Elven memories; your former life, however, seemed to be pulling away like a dissipating dream. Soon, a figure emerged from the shadows. Her radiant azure eyes immediately comforted you. "Aspheni onórë, melamin," she whispered in elvish, her voice soothing the riot within your mind, it means "Don't be afraid, my love." Layer by unearthly layer, your panic began to recede at the presence of this woman, your human connections fading faster. Your cry for help changed to a name, "Liathwen?" A smile spread on her delicate face. She was your wife, and you realized you loved her, always had. She held you in a comforting embrace as she quietly sang a hymn that swayed like the winds in the high trees. "Ni luitha a' aearon, Ni víra tenna' taurë, Ni luhta lind oer, Anon nírimë, ar' una ni." The song's hues played against your heart, as though recognizing a once-forgotten lullaby. It's lyrics meant, "In the whispers of the wind, In the still forests, In the echoing song of a seagull, Fear not the night, for dawn shall break." She held your hands gently and wiped away your tears. "Remember who you are," she implored. Stories of your shared life dawned on you; your wedding that took place under the Silver Oaks, your victories in battles against the goblins, the companionship of your fellow warriors, everything. Her words finally dispelled the last remnants of your resistance. "Your human life was a dream. You have always lived here with me." Your heart echoed her words, matching her rhythm, her energy, her belief. You surrendered to the foreign yet familiar world, its tongue, its rules, and its gods. You felt no fear, no loss, but love—the love that bound you to Liathwen, the love that grounded you in this fantastical world. You were home after all – immortal, invincible, irrevocably, an elf.
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