Hiku and The Search for The Purple Emperor

Rocmajindy
Hiku, a young male butterfly, a Blue Adonis, lived on such an island. It was called Rocmajindy. He lived with his mother, his father and his brother Bok. A more attractive place was never to be found. His family had lived there, along with other families of Blue Adonises, for years and years. Their warm tropical paradise was surrounded by a sparkling aquamarine sea, wrapped in clouds as light and soft as candy-floss, and painted in colours of coral, pink and blue. A sweet-smelling breeze circled the island evermore, through the rocks and crags, in and out of the tall swaying grass and lastly, twirling high into the sky.
Known fondly as the Blues, Hiku and his ancestors were the most beautiful of butterflies. Their wings were an electric, sparkling blue that gleamed in the sunlight like priceless jewels.
The Blues loved to spend their time eating nectar and honey and relaxing on their favorite rocks in the midday sun. However, their preferred activity was flying. Their reasons for flying didn’t matter. Flying on the fragrant breeze known as the Sweet Breath of Life mattered. Doing what butterflies do—darting about crazily, gliding slowly and doing wild dives, turns or spins to amaze their friends—mattered. Hiku and his family lived happily on Rocmajindy. All appeared perfect, but perfection was not always what it seemed.
One day Hiku and his brother, Bok, were playing at a small waterfall. They were standing on a flowering hyacinth trying to taste the sweetness of its honey through their feet.
“Well,” said Hiku to his brother.
“Well, what?”
“Can you taste it?”
“Taste what?”
“The honey,” Hiku said, sounding impatient.
“I don’t know. Can you?”
They stood for a moment, stroking their chins with their wings, and waited.
“Are you sure Dad said this certain butterfly could taste honey through his feet?”
“I know what I heard,” Hiku said.
“You could have heard him say something sounding like the word taste.”
Hiku glared at Bok.
“You could have.”
“Bok! He said—”
“Okay! Okay!” his younger brother shouted back, interrupting. “But … it doesn’t seem possible.” He paused. “What was his name again?”
“The Purple Emperor.”
Lifting his feet one after the other, trying to walk out of the sticky honey, Bok said, “He must be pretty darn clever.”
Just then, Blue Boy, a friend, arrived at the waterfall. He was shouting something neither young Adonis could understand—while trying to land with style, but with little success. The brothers laughed at his bumpy arrival.
“Hiku,” Blue Boy shouted, “you must come quickly. Your father said it was important.”
Blue Boy’s expression made Hiku feel sick to his stomach. He knew something awful had happened.
“Quick, Bok, help me out of this sticky mess,” he said.
Finally, after the brothers got out of the honey, they flew home as fast as their wings would take them. Arriving at the grass enclosure that had been their home for—forever, They detected nothing out of the ordinary … except it was eerily quiet.