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The Isles are surrounded by a dome like structure of thick mists, much like a rain forest, which allows the isle to be so fertile and grow food so easily. In order to visit the Isles for trade you must safely navigate these, which often cannot be done without help. As a result many shipwrecks have occurred trying to get to the Isles, providing its people with a natural safety barrier that has allowed them to continue to exist in their way of life without harm for many millennia.

There are downsides to this, such as limited sun can prevent the growth of certain fruits and herbs enjoyed locally. Much of this is resolved in the modern day through trading with those who live elsewhere than the Isles, but prior to this it became quite common to pray to the Mysts for good weather for the crops. Depending on yearly weather cycles the Mysts often open up top to allow for more sun during the summer months, but remain in place as a circle surrounding the Isles on the seas.

These aspects created a spiritual connection with the Mysts for everyone on the Isles, with some seeing the Mysts as part of the nature around them and the isles which breathes life itself, some seeing the Mysts as a great protector from those who would commit nefarious deeds, and some still seeing the Mysts as a harsh and indifferent deity that subjects you to its moods and whims without a thought.

In truth some part of all of these beliefs are true, the Mysts are not just what they appear, but an understanding of this is known only to a select few who have managed to survive the harsh north of the Isles where the secrets of the Isles pasts lie buried and hidden within the blight upon the land.

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The stories of the Isles often discuss how the land is a living and breathing thing. Society revers it with great respect, and to harm the Isles is considered the gravest possible sin. Unlike the Mysts, which are typically seen as a protective blanket and motherly figure, the Isles is treated with an underlying sense of foreboding. The stories are often are told as warnings, describing the land itself almost like a beast which will grow hungry if you do not feed and care for it.

Because of this shared fearful respect of the Isles from birth every creature is taught how to cultivate and care for it, which over time has built their home into a fertile food forest where one can enjoy abundant food from anywhere without difficult farming procedures and labor intensive harvesting seasons. Nearly all bury some of their harvests when they eat from the food forests as a sacrifice to the Isles, either from true spiritual belief, or fearful superstition of what may happen if they don't.

All life must eventually end, and itself return to earth to be consumed by the very mushrooms that run much of Mycorzha. From lights, to fuel, to complex inventions mushrooms are involved in all ways of life on the Isles due to their resilient and somewhat magical aspects they take when grown here. For most this process of decomposition is seen as your journey to the afterlife, and mushrooms on your grave are seen as a sign that the land has deemed you worthy to care for in return for your years of dedication to the care of the Isles.

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