First law.

And once they may have been people, wearing clothes and armor and speaking to each other in strange tongues, a language that's soft and slithers over the tongue but catches in the back of the throat. And once they may have been real.
Maybe their bones are still there, but nobody will look for them.

The ruins of their walls are there, clinging stubbornly to the hills. Even they have mostly crumbled, showers of rock falling onto the asphalt below.