Writings on Yurael the Radiant date back to the city-state of Kar-kazesh in the second astral era’s great age of prayer where, as most burgeoning civilisations began dedicating themselves to the Twelve, Kar-kazesh belonged to a smaller group of unrelated tribes and people who chose instead to worship various ‘wild spirits’ and otherworldly forces (some domestic, some voidal, some Other) and, in their particular example, made Yurael (depending on the source) either the high priest, priest-king, or patron deity of the city-state, who became the chief force behind the city's focus on wisdom, especially in the fields of astronomy and agriculture.

During the third astral era, early Allagan writings use Yurael and Kar-kazesh, among many other examples, as evidence to the dangers of relying on the fickleness of petty gods, and make ambiguous references to him being the eventual doom and shame of the city.

Right at the cusp of the War of Magi and the sixth umbral, the neutral Amdapori chronicler, Iellissi the Scribe, writes about a figure sharing the same name, byname, and titles worn by Yurael. According to her account, he is brought forth from the ‘Lightless Deep’ by one of Mhach’s prestigious arcane camarilla and ritually wed-and-bound to a Mhachi sorceress who eventually slays his material form and uses his bones to 'break time' (scribe note, in margin: this is most certainly an incorrect conflation of two unrelated events).

In 755, a Gelmorran prince¹, fatigued by their people’s pleas and suffering and the endless silence of their gods, leaves their thaig on a pilgrimage into the furthest corners of the underearth. Two years later, they return, and eleven years after that, a scholar arrives at the gate of a neighbouring thaig, fleeing his home. He writes: "in Gelmorra’s fathomless deeps, there are shadows so dense and dark as to have weight, fingers, and mouths to crawl inside and whisper what it wants from you. When our prince returned with that simple, iron band, they wore it wrongly: as a crown around their head, instead of the yoke it was made to be, wrapped around the neck of our whole city. There is only wailing, now, in Once-Noble RHI-AHK-TEHL.”

In 1579, a Sharlayan scholar emerges from a three-week expedition in Gelmorra. What remains of the crew is left ragged with long, tunnelled stares and eyes that seem too scared to blink. He pays them their owed dues and departs, something new weighing down his pack.

Seyyal-pasha of Dalmasca was a famous, influential, and much-decorated sipahi before Garlean occupation. According to reports, Solomon served alongside Seyyal and other resistance groups in Dalmasca Inferior.

Investigating intelligence brought by Solomon, a contingent of auxilia including the pair delved into a series of catacombs beneath Leá Monde, but only Solomon and Seyyal returned.

Following this incident, the efficacy of their cell's tactics saw substantial increase, though there are some rather disturbing rumours regarding behaviours and actions on their part.

When Solomon eventually departed from the region, Seyyal followed and can be found in service to him as both attendant and bodyguard today.

Only a single scholarly account has been found tied to Mehniam, and only within the last few months, suggesting that it is a relatively young entity. However, novel manifestations such as it have a certain appeal, especially to younger practitioners, who hope it will be able to bestow more of its time, attention, and blessings onto the individual in question.

Due to this, the account collated a spree of minor contemporary sects and cults looking to earn the entity’s favour, especially among rural hedge-covens and remote villages still practicing traditional forms of animism.

Mehniam is regarded by its invokers as dubious at best: sometimes a trickster figure that torments a village to teach it some more valuable truth, while in others a capricious nature devil that blesses the harvest to grow bountifully only for the villagers to suffer various maladies when partaking of its fruits.