You see a lanky teenager wearing a lab coat and glasses running up to the stage. He's holding a book in one hand and a Ball in the other, looking rather awkward and gawky. His voice, however, is surprisingly deep as he throws the ball from his hand with a "Forward!"
You're not very sure what to expect from the seemingly nebbish and bony coordinator, but it certainly isn't the Volcarona that bursts out of the sphere, obviously battle scarred. You see a steely glint in both the sky blue eyes of the moth and the hazel ones of its coordinator. The trainer gives a small smirk before speaking.
"Remember class, all fires need three things. Oxygen."
You're wondering why the trainer decided to say something so completely random when you begin to feel a breeze across your face. You start to dismiss it, but then you realize it's starting to pick up speed. A quick examination of the trees near the marsh reveals that the wind is spinning circularly. The fiery moth is high in the sky at the eye of the storm, obviously concentrating.
The teen's eyes seem to be on alert, almost like they're waiting for something. You see his smile widen a few seconds later as you hear him bellow:
The wind suddenly accelerates, and you have to shield your eyes so that you can see. At that same instant, many leaves and branches from the surrounding trees shear off, peppering the cyclone around the moth with large amounts of foliage. You back away from the wind, worried about the debris that might hit you. You hear the man cry out one more time:
In that instant, you feel a pulse of heat coming from the Volcarona. The wind obviously gets the lion's share, because, while any of your exposed skin becomes immediately pink and tender like it was sunburned, the poor plant matter in the storm ignites.
You survey the results with awe. The winds are clearly visible and extremely dangerous, as they swirl blazes around the moth at high speed. The fires are burning brightly and smoking heavily. And yet, the coordinator isn't done yet.
"When all these come together, fire BURNS!"
With that, the Volcarona begins to focus. All of a sudden, the Volcarona's six wings burn with the white fire of the sun.
Your eyebrows are closer to your hairline than eyes now. You see a powerful firestorm, midnight black with smoke. In it, there are brightly blazing flames, whirring with lives of there own. In the eye, you see black silhouette surrounded by a sun of its own creation, powerfully illuminated. The roars of the flames crash in your ears with thundering claps.
You used to wonder how the ancient people would worship a Pokemon, a bug, in fact. Now that you've seen this...
You will never wonder about that again.