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You woke up just in time to catch a wonderful morning breeze on your walk to work. The morning light brings color, and a vibrant atmosphere. This is a good morning to remember forever.

8 AM: Kyoto

OpenSea

Omnimorph #7281

Omnimorph #5623

Discover new art with early access as a Patron of Fount Gallery. Fount Gallery Patrons can expect multiple collections of the highest quality and long-term utility in our gallery's ecosystem.

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Val Echoes 

Chapter: [Chapter IX. - Val Echoes](https://medium.com/omnilore-art-book-stories/val-echoes-chapter-ix-2f4ff97701cd) 

Artist: [Dirty Robot](https://twitter.com/DirtyRobotWorks)

Isaac stopped as the air around him shivered with electricity. A sense of being watched carved out territory at the margins of his consciousness. Two glowing orbs appeared beyond a hill…eyes. They followed him intently as he trudged through the shifting desert sands beneath the star-strewn sky...

Val Echoes

Omnimorph #5732

Omnimorph #3847

Libra, Aquarius, and Gemini are the zodiac signs associated with the element of air. People born under these signs are often known for their intelligence, communication skills, and ability to adapt to change.

Symbolically, air represents the power of the mind and the ability to think and communicate. It is also associated with movement and change, as it is constantly in motion. Air is often seen as a symbol of new beginnings and the power of inspiration.  


Weaving Fates 

Chapter: [Chapter III. - Weaving Fates](https://omnimorphs.medium.com/weaving-fates-chapter-3-9450cda4939c) 

Artist: [Daniel Taylor](https://twitter.com/DanielTaylorArt)

The strange sphere, suspended, began to shift and change with veins and edges of gilded gold. Suddenly from the ethereal flesh of The Ancients, familiar forms began to emerge from the fractals. Galaxies began to take shape, delicate spirals and brilliant ellipses shone to life...

Weaving Fates

A Stones Throw 

Chapter: [Chapter IV. - A Stones Throw](https://medium.com/omnilore-art-book-stories/a-stones-throw-chapter-iv-ea40fa5cd620) 

Artist: [Daniel Taylor](https://twitter.com/DanielTaylorArt)

Opening his eyes Barlow, finds himself at the edge of a great cliff overlooking a beautiful valley, uncertain how he arrived here. Across from him is a figure he does not recognize. It wears a strange mask that covers a dark and ethereal visage. Its eyes glow with ancient depth and wisdom...

A Stones Throw

Omnimorph Soul Shard

Omnimorph #504

X2Y2

UINTS 28851

OpenSea Pro

UINTS 23090

UINTS 21374

UINTS 26511

UINTS 16656

UINTS 26512

UINTS 26469

UINTS 31770

Blur

She stepped into the bar at Kiercress and locked eyes with the massive bartender. There was an instant recognition. 
“Everybody out!” He bellowed. 

Abrihm resolved to venture down into the valley anyways, making his way towards the tree. At the very least he wished to explore the very thing that he’d set out to find. As he drew closer, he noticed something unusual about the air around the area, 30 meters in front of him it seemed to shimmer and dance in a bizarre fashion. Closer now, the shimmer was not a trick of the eye, he reached out his hand to touch it and disappeared through the air and it rippled like water. Jerking his hand away he stepped back, pondering whether or not to enter. Before he could decide, though, his camel sauntered through seeming to either not know or not care that something strange was afoot. Abrihm laughed a hoarse laugh and stepped through behind it.


The twins had starkly different dispositions. Negentropy had a kind heart, full of joy and excitement. Family and friends loved to be in the smiling child’s presence. She was showered with gifts and affection from everyone in her life. Entropeta, however, was an unusual child. He seemed full of anger and mischief, seeming to only derive joy from the accidents and mishaps of those around him. Adults approached him tentatively, feeling an inexplicable sense of unease around him. 


Barlow always drank on the job, and the amount he was capable of consuming was absurd. He had a mug the size of a pitcher and once in a blue moon, he would drink enough to lighten his mood. On those rare occasions his violet eyes would light up with a devious glint and he would make an announcement to the entire bar: whoever was able to get into his cellar could drink as much from it as they wished from it, free of charge. Every traveler in the bar would perk up upon hearing this, as every local glanced at one another and chuckled. A crowd would gather around the bar top as people from all over-tested their strength against a massive iron hatch that lay behind it. Often two or three men would attempt the feat at once and still fail. Not once did the door budge even an inch, except for on one occasion. 

Realizing how little he knew of the world Kiem left his life behind. The material world now seemed a clay for him to mold. 


The stranger’s appearance was jarring, he had a mane of white hair and piercing blue eyes, with a frame that was wiry and strong. Beyond his garbs, black runes could be seen wrapped in a spiral around his right arm. Upon the table, he laid open a piece of fabric to reveal a piece of black material. Its appearance, structurally, was that of wood. Its qualities, though, were of a dark glassy metal.
Kiem stared at the material, feeling the embers of passion flaring to life.
“Where did you find this?” He asked, not taking his eyes from the material.
“To the west.” Responded the figure.
“I require a dagger.” He continued, “The material must remain pure during the forging process.”
“Can you offer payment?” Kiem inquired, knowing he would do it for free. 
The stranger smiled taking Kiem’s right hand in his own. Before Kiem could react, the man clasped his family ring tightly and pressed a stone into the empty socket. Startled Kiem recoiled and stole back his arm, examining the new addition that was now fused to the band as if it had never left. The stone shone with an otherworldly brilliance. 
“Consider my debt to you family paid.” And with that, he left the small shop.


She lay her hands on either side of the totem and felt the subtle shift in her mind. Her temple had group rituals to help cultivate sensitivity, but even so, it had taken years of solitary meditation to become so attuned. As she focused, she felt the pillar draw energy from her and watched as the clear crystal came to life. Guidance was what she required and images of the past and future flashed through the crystal and into her mind’s eye, weaving a beautiful tapestry before her. In the center of that pattern, she stood and could see exactly how she fit into the flow of the world. The great current was ever-shifting and required constant attunement to follow the flow of life. 


The skull was not human, of that she was certain. Could it be an omnimorph skull? One of the ancients maybe… or perhaps something that predated even them…
Somehow, every written source for the Stygian Skull wove its way back to a dead end. It appears each of these had merely transcribed the tail end of some long oral tradition. 

The night stretched on and Elenda was unable to sleep. She found herself wandering the shoreline, pacing the narrow stretch of beach some distance from the quaint settlement. She wracked her brain for anything she had learned throughout her years in medicine that might help the boy, but there was nothing. Frustrated, she threw a stone at the water in a futile attempt to dissipate her anger. Where it struck, to her surprise, she saw a faint light glowing deep beneath the surface. Gradually it increased in luminosity. She watched as the water parted, and a masked shadow stepped from the sea. An omnimorph. An ancient. The very essence of purity itself. All of these things she would only discover later. In its grasp, it held a simple container. Slowly, it unsealed it and with a single breath filled it with a black mist, identical to that which composed it, and resealed the vessel. It passed the container to her, and she received it without a thought. Then, like a flickering light, the being vanished as if it had not been there at all. Elenda stood in shock, unwilling to move, the only certainty was that the substance she was given would help the boy.


The Stygian Skull. A relic long relegated to the realm of mythology; its existence now merely an echo from the lost passages of history. For those who believe it exists there is conjecture around its purpose. Many speculate that it was a point of communication between omnimorph and human civilization, during a time when we coexisted more closely. Used to call on one another in times of need. Others believe that it is a device designed to process and keep records of humanity as we advance, to study us, learn about the development of civilizations. Stranger still is the theory that the skull contains a record of things to come, of events that have yet to unfold.


The hunting party had tracked a giant boar, and the notoriously aggressive beast had already made a charge and narrowly missed Galli. With spear in hand, the group pushed the animal towards the treeline, where the forest meets the sands, and forced it into the desert. This was a common tactic, once the boar was in the desert it would lose its footing and tire quickly. As they continued to push the animal towards the dunes, Galli spotted a figure that appeared in the distance, emerging from the desert. His eyes narrow, uncertain that this was not a trick of the light. By now the rest of the hunting party had gathered, watching the silhouette emerge. The Endless Sands were certain death, it was believed that nothing lay beyond it. To see a person come from here was like watching one wake from death. The form began to take shape. He was clad in tattered white rags that no longer concealed him as if they had withstood months of weathering, yet his deeply tanned skin was unharmed. His physique was broad and wiry, each muscle thin and coiled with power like a drawn bow. Long hair and beard were unruly and bone white like the mane of a silver lion. The only mark on this body appeared to be a tattoo, a spiral of jet-black ruins that wrapped around his forearm. He had only one item with him, strapped to his waist- a pitch-black dagger.


Din’s final years as King were marked less by his actions and more by his absence. Servants around the household spoke of moments where he seemed to vanish into thin air. Upon making his way into a room, the servant would follow and find the room empty. Often, he would not be seen again for days. 


Standing back to admire her work she saw the image of a man she knew nothing of. He sat upon a throne in a land that looked nothing like hers. His single eye peered out of the canvas and into her very heart, if she didn’t know better, she thought perhaps where ever he was he could see her too. 


Only a handful of these massive seeds have ever been found, but the ones that have been are either in the hands of wealthy collectors or displayed in museums. Examination of the strange items has proven somewhat futile. The shell of the seeds appears impenetrable, the unknown composition being harder than any know substance, diamond drill bits shattering on its surface. Other means of examination have also proven futile. Electronics cease to function around the specimens. Almost everything about them points to them being inert relics of the past…if it weren’t for a faint pulse that could be felt coming from their center. 


The stone sat atop her workspace as it has for years, she felt a strange connection between it and herself now. Though she could not be sure, she wondered if this and the strange substance, given to her so long ago, had the same origin. Sitting next to it she began to file small pieces of the meteorite into her mortar and pestle, crushing them and mixing them into her paint. Once she began, she often found herself moving into a trance-like state as she interacted with the canvas. Her brush seemed to take on a life of its own as it sped across the white surface, knowing what it was painting before she did. This had been the case since she first touched the fallen star, her paintings were no longer of her surroundings, but of distant places she had never seen and people she had never met. 


“True commitment requires sacrifice.” 


Rumors swirled around how king Din had lost his eye and the nature of the strange otherworldly fabric that covered it. Many claimed that it had been taken as punishment, or sold on the black markets during his time in The Wreck. Others said he had seen beyond the mask of the omnimorphs, the true nature of their form destroying the eye that had seen them. Each story seemed more outlandish than the next, the king himself saying nothing on the matter except: “It was given freely”. One of the more unsettling rumors is that, where ever that other eye may be, he can still see from in. 


Abrihm had fallen in love with the written word at a young age. Language was a fascination for him, that bordered on obsession. He spent his time exploring every facet of the subject. From linguistic structure and foreign languages to paper making and ink recipes, nothing of the subject was beyond his interest. His thirst for knowledge was unquenchable and the pool from which he drank seemed bottomless.


As teenagers, the twins had developed a reputation in the city. One a beloved icon, the other feared and shunned. A tension began to grow between the siblings, resentment and jealously gained a foothold. Entropeta began to believe he was cursed, retreating from the world entirely. Negentropy, on the other hand, began to believe deeply in her own superiority, becoming increasingly narcissistic and indulgent. In her mind, she was an angel.  


Entropeta and Negentropy were fraternal twins. Negentropy was born first under the summer sun. Quiet and content she was given over to the attendant in anticipation of her twin’s arrival. His birth, however, was not quick. The mother’s labor lasted hours, progressing into the night. The attendants, growing increasingly concerned for her and the unborn child, watched as a shadow began to move across the moon. It crept like a dark omen as the color of the moon turned to blood. Those tending to her glanced nervously at each other, certain that this meant death. At the height of the blood moon the child finally entered the world, the boy howled like a demon.


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