The ship was filled with colors from memories—yet the longer Tyrion stayed aboard, the more he realized that many things were different from what he remembered.
Like those objects that seemed to come alive and scurried around the ship.
Like the spectral sails that had lost their substance and floated like gauze on the masts.
Like the unfamiliar first mate in the captain's cabin—referred to by his father as "Goat Head," a strange sculpture.
He sat across the navigation desk, looking at the somewhat familiar objects in the room. Many things could still be found in his memory, only now they bore many blotchy traces. His father sat opposite him, talking about the events that had occurred between the Deep Sea Church and Homeloss, and the lady Judge from Prand was sitting next to his father, chiming in from time to time.
The changes in events had entirely exceeded his expectations.
