Essek frowns at the flickering bridge. It would be an easy solution if his mind was well enough to channel magic, but his hands shake too heavily and his memories too muddled for him to even recall his spells, let alone cast them. He feels useless and absolutely vulnerable, at the mercy of this person leading him, having to trust him purely because he's familiar and a fellow train passenger.

He hates to be put in such a position, but he kind of placed himself in it, let his instincts override his scattered logic.

Watching the other, he mentions some things that have no meaning to him personally - dark corridor? black coat? - but he's having trouble keeping up with the man's stream of conscious at the same time. He does however, understand needing to stand back and does so. His eyes a little wide on the summoned blade. It was, well, atypical looking, unlike anything he's seen, but the other seemed to have an idea of what he intended to do with it, how to wield it.

He kept his eyes locked on the other's movements, curious, but keeps out of the way.