In the heart of an ancient, enchanted forest, there rested a tranquil lake, its glassy surface reflecting the scattered rays of the setting sun. The forest was alive with the melodic songs of crickets, the gentle rustle of leaves, and the faint whisper of the evening breeze. Among the vibrant foliage, a solitary figure emerged. A woman, her raven hair cascading in wisps down her back, a veil shrouding her face, and a white, tattered dress billowing around her spectral form.

She floated, neither touching nor tethered to the earth, her graceful movements as fluid and mesmerizing as the water beneath her. The ethereal beauty of her visage glowed, emanating an otherworldly aura that cast a silvered sheen upon the forest floor. Her eyes, pools of pure, mournful melancholy, bore an unspoken sorrow that pierced the evening stillness.

The woman, who was once known as Amara, had been cursed by the vindictive sorceress, Morgana, for meddling in affairs beyond her understanding. Condemned to haunt the forest and weep eternal tears of starlight, Amara's haunting cries echoed through the night, reaching out to all those who would listen. As the first twinkling stars illuminated the darkening sky, Amara raised her voice, pouring out her heartache in a lament that echoed through the ages, seeking solace in the hearts of the countless souls who gathered to hear her tale.